Mimic: Guardian of Balance: A Life, A Legend
by MIMitationBalance
Summary: This is the story of the life of the last Guardian. Hopefully by the time you are done reading it, she will not be the last Guardian anymore. Eventual Jack x OC. Will include several isolated crossovers in the middle.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

Song: Halloween Theme from the movie Halloween

Several years ago, I shared my story, about where I came from, and the things I did. But that story was...a lie. Well, not exactly a lie. I shortened and simplified a lot of things. I made them seem smaller and easier. I exaggerated the good things and I hid the bad ones away or brushed over them. When I think about why I did this, I guess it was because as a Guardian my story, and the stories of the other Guardian, are supposed to be heroic. We are supposed to swiftly find any solution after a theatrically appropriate amount of struggle. We are supposed to know the right thing to do, always and without fail. I wrote myself as that dauntless here, and in hindsight it sickens me that those words might have contributed to my current predicament.

In light of recent events, I don't think we can hide behind that mask anymore. What is recently passed events for me are what's waiting in the future for you. I hope that by sharing my story, the uncensored version this time, maybe what's happened to my family, what's eventually going to happen to me, can be averted.

I wish for you to understand that at the time of my writing this, I am quite old, though my face does not betray it. And after all these centuries, I have come to discuss certain things with an unfortunate degree of cynicism, stoicism, and wit. While I'm sure some of the things I will share will be shocking or disturbing to you, I urge you to read to the end. Maybe by the time you do, my next words won't be true.

I am Mimic, Guardian of Balance. I am going to tell about how I became the last Guardian.

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**A/N: **

**What do the Guardians look like to someone who does not understand them?**

**How does one build a Guardian from nothing, with no prior knowledge, and no preparation?**

**How does someone discover what it means to be a Guardian, alone, without having someone there to immediately tell them?**

**For there to be a time with the Guardians, there must be a time _before_ the Guardians in a life. And make no mistake, this is a story about a life, in the world. The world is a big place. The Guardians are in that world too, and how they appear in that world grows and changes with the girl who is living it.**

**It's time to see the Guardians from a new perspective, a clueless one, one who is trying her best to sort it out. It may not all be enjoyable, but then again, life rarely is.**

**Either you are in for the ride, or you are not.**


	2. Chapter 2: Before

Song: More Than Friends by TSFH

When I asked, Jack would tell me about what the Guardians were like before the two of us. 'Distant figures,' he'd say, 'built up behind a millennia of reputation.' Jack himself had the most personal experience with Bunnymund and Sandman, but his few encounters with Bunny had been tense to say the least, and his encounters with Sandy were more encounters with his work. He'd not managed to capture more than a passing glance of North, since the yetis, particularly Phil, were persistent in keeping him out of the workshop. Jack admits that while he could've given chase on a wayward Christmas night, he didn't have the courage. As for Tooth, she never really left Tooth Palace.

With such distance, it does not surprise me that Pitch made such a successful run as he did. Man in the Moon had excellent timing, as he does, in choosing Jack. He was healthy for them I think. Personalized them and made them more of a family. In the years between Jack's choosing and my own, he says they turned into quite the close knot little group.

I was 12 at the time of Pitch's Second War on the Guardians. By then I had lost all my baby teeth, so I was spared the most devastating of his attacks. But I was growing out of what the Guardians called the 'True Childhood.' Those were the most powerful years of belief. I was growing up. And I was leaving them behind. Part of me still held on, or at least I'd like to think so. I called them the small joys. The wind in your hair, a good dream, and that Christmas feeling even fully fledged grown ups still notice. In hindsight, it must have been them, easing out of childhood and into the adulthood I would never really reach. I asked North about it once and he just chuckled and said it would ruin the magic of it all.

The first time I wrote about all this, I made my home life seem vastly more tragic that it was. After all, what hero doesn't have a tragic backstory? My family certainly does. North was a criminal. Bunny and Tooth both lost the entirety of their races to vicious enemies. Sandy stranded on a nearly empty planet. Jack straight up died. But no, my backstory was downright cheery. My parents loved me. My brother got on my nerves but that's what brothers do. I got good grades, did ballet in the off hours and had a bright future waving at me from down the road. I guess it goes to show that Man in the Moon's plans are as mysterious as they say, and that nothing, not even the perfect plan of my own could derail them.

I successfully managed to graduate high school and get accepted into a reputable university. But in the three months between graduation and move-in day, things took a turn for the odd and unexpected. Since there are only five Guardians in existence before me, each with their own unique and strange stories, I can't really attest to whether my experience is unusual. I'm not even sure if it's statistically possible to determine a normal from such little data.

That summer, I began to notice small changes. They were almost imperceptible and therefore I disregarded them until it was too late. My dark brown hair got darker to an eventual inky black. I chalked it up to just natural change. My hazel eyes became progressively more green but again I ignored it. It wasn't until they transitioned to blue, and red and yellow and every other color that I began to grow intrigued. All the while I prepared for university. In all my focus I did not have the time to interact too closely with my family, there in the house with me. Perhaps if I had taken more time to do so, I'd have noticed more concerning signs than hair and eyes. I'd have to call my dad's name three or four times before he'd notice, even if he was standing next to me. Sometimes I'd ask questions of my parents and they'd struggle to recall an answer. They didn't know the date of my next doctor's appointment or where they'd put the textbook I ordered. It wasn't until they forgot my birthday that I really became agitated. I asked how on earth they could have forgotten, but they just brushed it off, instead changing the subject to talk about my brother's new job.

Little by little I was being edited out of my own life and I didn't understand why. My laptop and phone vanished. My room one morning was no longer filled with all my clothes, books and trinkets, instead replaced by a bland guest room. I think that's another reason I wrote my backstory as dramatically as I did. It was easier to say that I left abruptly, that my family mourned me, that I refused to ever return fully accepting my new role. It is far more painful to say I watched my loving happy family forget me with my own eyes, watched as I was deleted from family pictures. They did not mourn because they did not know they had someone to mourn.

It would take me decades to accept that it was cleaner that way. But I would spend those decades asking Man in the Moon why couldn't have found a different way, receiving no answer in return.

By the end of August, my hair had become completely black, and acquired its ghostly white shine in any form of light. My eyes had become the ever changing rainbow of colors they are now. My glasses, which lasted the longest during my disappearance due to them being on me face, one day melted over my nose. I shrieked and swatted at my face, not even raising the attention of my mother in the next room. Once I got over the initial panic, I saw the cold liquid glass trickle down my shirt and form into two bracelets in my lap. At this point, a dull resignation that filled my heart and just slipped them on. I didn't know what was happening to me, but there was nothing I could do but follow along with it.

So when black leggings and a black sleeveless shirt appeared, I was beyond any will to question it. When the black boots appeared I just slipped them on before returning to the couch where I'd sit for hours every day just blankly staring out the window. When the white motorcycle jacket with twin dragons emblazoned on the back and sleeves fell on my head out of the blue I put it on. I pulled up the soft black hood and prayed that some form of guidance would appear. It would be a while before that one got answered.

When late August rolled around, my family had been lost to me. There was no one to take me to college. There was no one to tell me what to do next. Something stirred in what felt like my dying heart. I wasn't going to stay there any longer. To do anything would be better than sitting there waiting for a revelation that would never come. Waiting for a matching hat or something to smack me in the face seemed more plausible now.

And so on one rainy night, I gathered my courage. I feared that like in The Sixth Sense, I would be unable to open doors, and that this would confirm that I was a ghost and doomed to spend the rest of my days wandering alone in death. I'd never died before. How was I supposed to know if each dead person got a matching outfit, or not? I got past that but rationalizing that if I'd died, my family would be mourning, which they weren't. That left me back at having no clue, but at least I wasn't dead. So there's that. I waited until a delivery man came to drop off a package and my father opened the door. On that night I walked through my father and the delivery man and into the darkness. As I walked away I thought I heard my father's voice call out to me.

"Mimic."

I whirled around. That was a far cry from my name, but my dad had closed the door and was gone. I turned away again, walking into the nearby woods.

My transition into a being of belief was complete.

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**A/N:**

**A world is more than just the major characters. It is the rules and laws that govern it. It is the way it works and sometimes doesn't work. She is in a new world now. She does not know how it works. Yet.**


	3. Chapter 3: Before

Song: Hurt by Eric Whitacre

Contrary to my previous writings, it would not be a few years until I met the Guardians who would later become my new family. The night that I left home was one my lowest points in my memory. I'd never been truly on my own before. Sure, I'd been resourceful at times, but that was always biding time until someone came along to sweep up the problem. That night, with the rain pouring down on me, the weight of my situation came crashing down on me too. For the whole night I lay huddled at the base of a pine tree barely a few hundred meters from my front door. I'd been to sleepaway camp only one time and now I was expected to make my way in a world where no one could see me, hear me, touch me. Rain mingled with tears on my face as silent sobs choked me from within.

In that moment, as sadness consumed me, the moon shone through a crack in the clouds and an eerie calm carried on the wind swept over me. As my mind, still sad, calmed and stilled, so did the rain around me. Soft blue light mingled in the air somewhere between my eyes and my mind. Drops sat suspended in space. I reached out a finger to touch a raindrop and as I did a tear peeled away from my face and slid down the length of my finger until it left my finger and sat in the air alongside the raindrops. The blue light gathered loosely about my finger.

As quickly as it came, the feeling left me. The light was gone and raindrops splashed down into the soaked carpet of late summer leaves. At some point I drifted into a light sleep, every rustle and windy whistle causing me to startle and shake with fright.

In time, morning arrived and morning has a way of making everything seem a little better and a little less frightening than they seemed the night before. The little event with the rain had not slipped my mind and due to the events of the past summer, I was not going to discount it as a dream.

The curiosity to discover what had happened was more purpose than I'd had in weeks. It gave me back a small amount of vitality. It sparked me to live this new life I had, though I still did not understand it at all. About a mile from my house was a lake. I'd ridden my bike to it many times growing up. This time I walked to it, then removed my boots and felt my toes squish through the night-cooled sand right up to the water's edge. Whatever purpose I'd had faltered in that moment. I hadn't the faintest idea what had caused the rain to stop around me last night. How on earth was I supposed to try and repeat it? The scientist in me rattled off every variable that I could not repeat. I had no night, no rain, no moon, no tears. I had nothing.

But I still had sadness and calmness. They both still sat like leaden anchors in my stomach. As I let them work their way back into my body, as my knees felt like collapsing and my tears threatened to spill over my eyes again, I saw the blue light appear again, like a mist about my person. My curiosity at this sent the sadness back into my stomach and the blue light vanished only to be replaced by a grassy green.

I'd seen such colors before. A quirk of the brain I was told, but never before had they been so bright, so definite. Before they had been real, but now they were surreal. And as I turned my vision to my surroundings, the colors wove through everything around me. Those of the environment were barely present, but the grassy green around me was brighter than them all. I turned my attention back to the lake. Carefully, I let the sadness rise back up.

_I never got to tell my family I loved them one last time._

_I never got to say goodbye._

A new realization hit me. _This likely didn't stop at my family. My friends had forgotten me too._

The blue light returned with a vengeance. It bubbled up and I became more aware of the lake and its lapping waves. Like I did the night before, I reached out my finger. But the blue light did not collect there as it did. I furrowed my brow. Nothing was happening.

The one thing that got me going, and now I didn't even have that! I brought my hand down forcefully and let a sorrowful groan out into the air around me. The water moved. It rippled as if I had just dragged my hand through it, from five feet out, up to the shore of the beach.

My brow furrowed even more.

I tried again. And again. Three times out of ten I got something to happen. It would be just a little movement, like I was throwing an invisible rock into the water. Each time the splash and resulting ripple would be a little bigger. For the next six hours I stayed there on the shoreline trying my hardest to get the water to do something. Progress improved when I determined beforehand what exactly I was trying to get the water to do. At the end of it, my list of skills was short, but more than I'd started with.

I could push the water. The first couple of tries I only succeeded in creating an outward skimming effect. I was only pushing the top surface of the water, the part I could see. Using the blue light, I kept in mind the increasing depth of the water. Instantly the pressure on my mind tripled, but with the blue light all around I was too lost in the moment to care much. This time I managed to push a three foot stretch of shoreline back. Both hands in front of me walking forward, I marched the waterline out 10 feet. It was like I'd made a little dry runway behind me. The blue light mingled in the water, like a northern light caught in a glass.

I could pull the water too. This one was much harder to pull off, pun intended. When pushing water out, It was being held in place by all the surrounding water. But when pulling the water, I had to be sure to know where I wanted the water to stop. Before I'd figure out that little tidbit of useful information my attempts a pulling were nothing more than making a tiny wave spit a few scant inches further into the sand. But slowly the little wave got bigger and I fell into the movements that seemed to work best. I had my arms loosely extended forward, hands soft and palms down. I'd move them forward and down and then move my hands as if I was grabbing an imaginary sheet with my fingers still long. Then I'd move like I was about to ripple that sheet out over a bed. With my hands the wave would rise come towards me and then crash into the sand.

My experiments with pulling led to another discovery. When pulling water initially, I just focused on a section of the shoreline and tugged. If I kept tugging then that section would creep up the sand towards me, but it would detach from the lake. It looked like a little clear melted turtle sliding on its belly in the sand. In order to keep the section attached the lake, I had to consciously add more water to it. With great effort I ultimately was able to bring both up off the sand and into the air. That's how I made my first water ball and water tendril.

Morning wore into afternoon and afternoon wore on into evening. Maybe it was because I'd been strenuously trying to move lakewater all day, or maybe it was that ingrained habit that humans are supposed to sleep at night. Or maybe it was because I was actually tired, but the blue lights began to falter in my sight. While I'd made a ball nearly a foot in length earlier, I was that night struggling to shove the shore a foot.

Having something to occupy me had been a wonderful reprieve from thinking about what I was supposed to do now. I didn't want to stop. But I felt drained. Plopping down in the sand I put up my hood and leaned back. The beach was a light hill down to the water and with my arms crossed and my hood up, my eyes drifted shut.

* * *

**A/N:**

**What? See no one you know and love? Good. That is what loneliness means. That is being surrounded by unfamiliarity and having no one to turn to. That is 'what am I doing here?' and 'what is happening?'**


	4. Chapter 4: Before

Song: Blanket of Snow by TSFH

For the next two weeks I stayed in the vicinity of the lake, practicing. I think it was because I lacked any better ideas about what to do with my time. I got better about summoning the mindset I needed and staying there. By the end of the week I was able to handle one ball of water with each hand. I could move them away from my body and back again. When I pushed the spheres away the blue light was like a tether connecting my hand to it. But it got harder the farther away it got. The blue light would wither and then the ball would drip until every last bit of it had fallen to the beach. Everyday I would push it further.

There were many mishaps, I will openly admit. I dropped several gallons of water on myself trying to move things up and down instead of side to side. This prompted me to learn the useful skill of pulling water off myself. I wouldn't really master that one for a while. I always seemed to end up with extra dry skin.

Week three brought me enough motivation to move away from the lake. I wandered my town, although haunted may be a more appropriate term. I checked in on my friends...watched them carry on happily without me. I'd always flee back to the lake after doing so and waterbend until I couldn't feel my arms anymore. And for a long time that was all I knew about myself. I was alone. I was a waterbender.

After three months of being a local ghost, walking anywhere and everywhere in my quaint, old town, working everyday to be bend water, I decided to venture someplace. Anyplace. Before all this, I'd felt like the town was strangling me. For the past few months I had stayed because I'd had nowhere to go. Nothing waiting for me. But curiosity now drove me out. I needed to leave. To do something. Just to prove to myself I could. My waterbending had progressed a good deal. If I could do that, I could go and be okay.

In a fit of resolution, I walked to the local highway and began to jog along the far side of the breakdown lane. I just kept jogging. It wasn't until I crossed a state line that I stopped. My house was a fifteen minute drive on this highway from this border. Fifteen minutes in a car going sixty miles per hour, and I'd struggled to run the half mile at school for the fitness exam. I was a dancer, not a cross country runner but I'd just jogged here and was barely winded. I guess there was more to this than just waterbending.

Drunk on discovery, I jogged through the night until I reached the river. I summoned the blue light once more and dutifully did my nightly practice. That night I was working on whipping the water. The only real waterbending I'd ever seen was on Avatar: The Last Airbender and Legend of Korra, so they were my sole guidance in this. I certainly didn't have a clue where to look for a teacher. No one on earth could see me or so I believed at the time. From memory I tried to capture the fluidity of it. I knew waterbending was based off tai chi, so before I'd left town I'd invisibly attended the elderly tai chi class on the town green every other day. I'd learned as many forms as I could and it had really helped.

I pressed one foot into the ground and gathered some water with my hands, hovering it a foot in front of my torso. I lifted my right foot and drew right foot and both hands in towards my center. I moved my right hand in a semicircle under my left, creating a coiled tendril of water. Exhaling, I sharply stepped forward with my right foot. With it I extended my arm like a quick wave, snapping my wrist forward last. My coil of water stretched forward and whipped at a tree branch. It was enough to shake a few leaves loose. The last of the dead ones clinging to a late autumn tree.

The next night it snapped the branch clean off the trunk.

Every day I would run further down the river, following its twists and curves. Sometimes it was a leisurely stroll that would carry me past elegant old houses. At other times I'd sprint as hard as I could and watch the trees rush by. I could sprint far longer now than I ever could. Once I hopped over a branch and ended up leaping about 15 feet in the process, then tripping from surprise and slamming into the ground. My hands stung and my knees too. Blood dripped from my palms. I had nothing to wrap them in and thus spent an afternoon dozing with them clenched under my armpits.

When I awoke, all that remained of my scuffs was the blood that had dried onto the leather of my jacket. My hands looked fine. I wondered at this. Everyday it seemed delivered a new surprise. I washed my jacket in the river, even using some of my waterbending to be careful about it. The rush of feeling so superhuman carried me through my days, though every night the sadness crept back in. My waterbending was strongest at such times, but that was a connection I would not make for a while yet.

As rivers tend to do, eventually I reached the ocean. The chill of approaching winter was apparent to me now. How I'd ignored it up until that point was beyond me. As it did every now and again, the crushing doubt of "what on earth do I do now, where do I go?" hit me like a truck. To procrastinate these thoughts I tried for the first time to waterbend the ocean. In this part of the country, the ocean is unruly and gray, with large waves that race up the shore only to race back out again. I was hardly surprised that it fought back against my bending with a ferocity I'd never encountered.

This presented a challenge. And nothing got a rise out of me quite like a challenge. My first winter as a waterbender was spent in a frigid surf. I'd spend days and nights in the breakers pushing and pulling against the waves until I got better and got stronger. Until I could shatter a wave around me without a drop hitting my skin. I learned to keep my footing as the torrents of water dragged my feet out from under me. It was at this time that I broke my old human habit of sleeping every night. Instead I slept when I was tired, which was about every four days. I slept more often during the day when people would roam the windswept beach. They may not see me, but I once saw a man react to one of my tricks. The shock caused me to stop and he blinked, rubbed his eyes and walked away. Something in my heart told me that it would not be wise to draw such attention, desperate though I was to be noticed. Something in the moonlight strengthened this thought into a resolution. Best not be flashy.

When I did sleep, my fingers were numb from cold and one night I awoke to find myself buried under two inches of snow. If I'd felt more myself, I would have questioned how I didn't die of hypothermia, but I think that in those days, I didn't care if I would, or could. My only motivation was to be better at the one thing I understood about myself. I wallowed in my sorrows and got better at waterbending. Though after the snow incident I took to sleeping under a pier, above the high tide line.

Snow has a way of making everything quiet and still. During one particular sunrise, during the last few hours of my practice before the people came and I retired to my divot under the pier, a sort of peace washed over me, cooling the sadness. For the first time in all those months, I released some of the sorrow like a breath of air. I took comfort in the peace, in the stillness.

The moment passed and I subsequently noticed that ice encapsulated me from my feet to my waist. I may not have felt like I knew much about my world anymore, but I knew that the ocean didn't normally do that. Before I could make any sound of surprise, a wave crashed into my face in my inattention. It was enough to crack the ice and send me tumbling up on the beach where I sat coughing...and wondering.

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**A/N:**

**Still no Guardians? It has been a few months. Can you say that you have run into Guardians in the same region multiple times in a few months? Is the world really so small?**


	5. Chapter 5: Before

Song: Letters To God by TSFH

I wanted to make ice again. I wanted to do it and every time I tried and failed I got more and more frustrated. I sat and tried my hardest to recall everything that had happened when I did it the first time. But my mind was blank. Whatever I'd had then had been lost to me. And it would irk me for a long time. I'd picked up waterbending in a week. I was unaccustomed to failure, and to not succeeding on my first try. Minor setbacks were acceptable, but this was not. As if there was anything I could do about it.

Since I no longer slept every night, I had my first encounters with dreamsand. I marvelled at its golden color, and at its gentle light. I did not recognize it at first. It was not until I ventured back inland, to the small seaside town that I understood the dreamsand for what it was. Like most sea towns, the tourists and bustle come in May and leave in September, so in the winter nights there were not many people for the sand to attend to. I had to jog a fair ways inland before reaching a house with a tendril of sand running loosely from a window up to the sky. I crept silently across the yard, grateful for the falling snow to cover my tracks. On a beach, footprints go unnoticed, but on someone's yard? I peeked over the window sill and saw a little girl with brown hair curled up underneath a fluffy green comforter. Her face, serene and sweet as she clutched a stuffed puppy dog to her face. The animal was squeezed so tight that it smooshed her cheek. If the dog were real it probably wouldn't be able to breathe. All around her was a soft golden light. Not from the dreamsand, no, this was the sweet yellow light that accompanied all happy faces in my eye. For the first time in a while, a small smile tugged at my lips. I watched as little golden figures appeared over her head. There was the girl, and her parents and a dog. They were sledding and the dog took the rope up in his mouth and pulled the girl around as she rolled with laughter.

My elbows rested on the window sill and my head tilted to the left, resting on my arm. I watched snippets of her dream as the sand showed them. But then something startled me in my own mind. Here I was, watching in a stranger's window in the middle of the night. For a moment I saw her and saw myself at her age, sleeping with my stuffed animals, sledding with MY parents. My sight shifted and I saw my reflection in the darkness of her window. Black hair and blue eyes flecked with gray stared back. A thin layer of snow covered my head and shoulders, making my hair's ghostly shine have a slight shimmer. It was the first time I'd really seen myself in some time. My hair stiff and unkempt from being endlessly pelted with salty mist. Dark rings under my oddly colored eyes. But I still stood straight and tall, my shoulders still held that ballerina grace, and maybe even a new sense of confidence.

What had happened to me, that I should look so strange to myself? And yet I saw myself in this small sleeping child...more than in my own reflection. The thought disturbed me. With that thought my eyes briefly flashed a disgusting green color. I missed who I was. I was someone then. And now?

I looked up to the sky as if expecting some answer. I saw the snaking ropes of dreamsand coil up into the clouds where they illuminated their foggy depths. I could see the brighter center where a great cloud of dreamsand must have been. It occured to me that Sandman must be there. But like the mist, this thought wisped away. He was up there and I was here with no way of getting up there. I had no evidence that he would be able to see me either. The idea that I could be something like him was preposterous! I thought I saw a thin shadow streak towards the cloud, but in the darkness and squinting through the snow, it was hard to say. Bringing my gaze back down to earth I heard rustling from inside the house. I immediately ducked and plastered my back to the siding of the house.

How ridiculous! No one in the house could see me and still I ducked out of sight like a fool. I brushed myself off and walked to another window. And what a sight greeted my eyes. The girl's parents were attempting to quietly place gifts, under...a Christmas Tree? I did a little mental math and realized that certainly it must be Christmas Eve! I'd been on the beach and away from houses for so long that I had lost all track of the date.

As I gazed through the window into the dimly lit living room, I saw them set up a large, but empty, box. I was confused but then I saw their lights turn an excited cream orange. Her father left the room and returned with a small moving lump. A puppy! A smile burst out of me. The girl's dream was going to come true, she was getting a puppy for Christmas! In the window a warm golden glow like the small girl's bubbled into my eyes, until I could see the glare of them in my reflection.

It was like a spell over me had broken. The shards of myself, that had lay dormant in my mind since my life had shattered, trembled from some force inside of myself. The sand had long since moved on but naturally since timing is as perfect as it is, I heard a whip-like crack above. I peered through the night and saw a flying sleight coursing through the air. Santa was coming! I watched with a dropped jaw as he leapt from the sleigh and smoked down through a chimney and another and another. He was like a comet of bronze determination that streaked through the night. He bounced from one chimney to the next, never missing a beat. He moved with such purpose. In my moment of clarity, I realized that I didn't have one.

I almost thought he saw me as he jumped down the little girl's chimney. But I suppose he didn't, moving too fast to care. I had just been standing in the yard next to a tree. Still. Like a statue in the dark. Guess I couldn't blame him for not noticing, after all he seemed a busy man.

Near dawn I found myself back on the beach. I plopped myself down into the sand and drew my knees into my chest. In silent meditation I considered, really considered, my situation, with elbows on knees and chin on hands.

My friends and family may not remember me anymore, but those 18 years of my life _did_ happen. I remember them. I remember everything I learned and experienced. I remember 14 years of ballet training, hard and cruel and beautiful. I remember learning chemistry and anatomy and calculus. I remember watching the news as gun violence shook the nation and my school did drills in case of an attack. I remember my father teaching me how to disarm someone as a last and desperate resort.

They have forgotten me, and I had forgotten me too. I'd let myself be erased from my life because I thought that was it. But no more! I still had 18 years of experience under my belt. I was smart, quick-witted and resourceful. I was motivated and I was not going to allow that to change. I was going to grow into this new life, but I was NOT going to start from scratch. This life was not a damnation. It was going to be an opportunity or so help me. I now had the free chance to do all the things I'd ever wanted to do. I vowed to myself then and there that I would do them. All of them. I may not have known who I was anymore. But I was going to find out.

The blue light crackled and now was joined by flecks of other colors. Purple, bright green, orange and many others. The sun cracked over the horizon. Maybe I was no one. But I was going to be the best no one that ever was.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Did you expect riveting conversation? That naturally all spirits must be extroverted? With the Sandman no less? Did we not establish that the Guardians are capable of ignoring someone for centuries? As if that is all going to change now...**

**How would anyone know all the secrets of the Guardians? All we've got are legends. That's all a main character has access to. They aren't _that_ special.**


	6. Chapter 6: Before

Songs: 1) See You Tomorrow from HTTYD Soundtrack 2) Smoke on The Water by 2WEI

No longer bound by despair, my life went from desolate, to desolate and daring. It is quite easy to sneak onto commercial aircraft when you don't exist. It is a free ticket around the world. It's easy to get lost in the adventure when cost is superfluous. How time flies when everything is just one wistful something after the next. I went where I fancied, when I fancied.

I did figure out that while I could do months at a time without eating, I did need to eat. That was when I learned my first useful skill: thievery. As previously mentioned I knew people could see me affect the world, even if they couldn't see me, so it paid to be sneaky. Every time someone noticed something awry, a soul crushing dread clenched around my heart so tight I thought I might suffocate. Being discreet kept that feeling away so I worked to be light fingered. I started small. Mini soda bottles off the airplane carts and then when I good, bags of pretzels. The crunchiness sound was an added challenge. French fries off plates in passing were child's play and once I even managed to eat the bite of food off of a fork as the dinner-eater sat with their fork between the plate and their mouth during conversation. They just thought that the fork had been empty! How little people notice. I got quicker. If the kitchen was busy enough I could assemble a bowl of soup and deposit the empty bowl in a sink with no one being the wiser.

The first time I forgot to grab a spoon. My glass armband on my left hand melted coolly into my palm before becoming a spoon. MAn iN MoOn was that a useful discovery!

In Paris I was the shadow to a family of freerunners for nearly a year. I copied their exercises and tried to follow them across the rooftops. With no one to correct any mistakes I would make, my error often involved me fall several stories or smacking headlong into walls, multiple times. It was then I learned how durable I was. I could drop five stories to cobbled streets and so long as I landed on my feet with my wits about me, I felt nothing more than a bruise for a few hours.

It was worth it because every night I'd pick a new room with a new child and watch them dream. I would shimmy up fire escapes and onto balconies with my news skills and watch. The dreamsand was my favorite part of every day. Without it I think I would've lost track of time more than I already did. One night it was a little boy who dreamt of trains, the next a girl who wanted to roll down a meadowed hill. I even saw a little tooth fairy make a collection. The small thing flitted next to my face and we locked eyes, but it didn't say anything to me. Just stared. Then it flew away. I tried to follow but the little fae could fly and I remained grounded.

One day I decided to reach out and touch the dreamsand with my hand. It was warm like bath water and I caught the scent of freshly laundered sheets. Out the sand erupted dancers, small as fairies that stepped lightly all about me. I filched a bag from a convenience store and grabbed some sand to save. I had to be sure to tie the bag extra tight. Gravity and didn't apply and so the sand liked to spill. For that reason each catch was a single serving only. I used it when I'd get too lonely to sleep. Sometimes it would let me dream of my friends and family. Sometimes, or most times it didn't, but the small chance was enough for me.

In the span of two years I had a strong grasp of parkour, long distance running, hiking, climbing, and navigation. These were the most crucial for me in order for me to actually accomplish anything as I wandered the world. All the while I was exposed always to new people, and all of their colors. The skills I learned were not all physical. These colors, they were emotions and I could do more than just see them. I found this out when my blue lights one night caused a baby to cry. When the young mother came running, her own light neon orange from worry, my blue reached out and stained her light. She began to cry too. After realizing what I did I desperately worked to reel my own light in, back towards myself. I didn't want to make people cry.

But it worked the other way too. One night as I was stealing food from a small bar by the docks where I had been haunting a maritime academy, a brawl broke out. Red lights mingled like hot airborne blood between men as they pounded on each other in a rage. I saw the red approach and then my face got hot and hands clenched and I felt MAD. The coiled rope I'd been leaning on smoldered and smoked. The smell tanged my nose and as I angrily looked to see what on earth could be happening now, the rope burst into flame. I stumbled back and fell on butt in the street, but not for long as I scrambled to avoid being hit by a passing car. At this point I was reasonably sure I'd live from the hit, but I was never one to tempt fate. I took a risk and used my waterbending to put the small fire out before it attracted any attention.

I spent the next five years researching, "researching," what I could. I experimented with every color I set eyes upon. At first I wasn't sure how, but I settled on siphoning a color off someone, or making it myself, and then just getting enough it. Then I just thought hard about wanting to do something. I found that different colors had different ways of getting things done. Red energy was hot and thick like blood. I had to work to move it around, but once it got moving it was like a stampeding bull, equally hard to subdue.

In one test, that I am very ashamed of, I found a couple arguing. They were already red enough but stupidly I tossed some of my own at the woman. She slapped him. I covered my mouth in shock and disgust at myself. How could I have been so dumb. In an attempt to right what I'd done I latched onto both their anger and pulled and pulled until I'd absorbed most of it. I felt dizzy and drunk on the rage, but I managed to keep it together.

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry, I don't know what just came over me! Please forgive me, I will never do that again!" I heard her ramble the words out, voice swamped in guilt. But I knew...the guilt was mine. I felt like the shadows were watching me, judging me for my mistake. I felt my heart race and it felt like my blood was boiling.

I still had all that anger bottled up now and I needed to get rid of it. If I didn't direct the energy, it would explode and I might set something on fire. Thankfully it was night and I scrambled off a rocky point into the cool shallows of the sea. I then radiated the excess anger out, stewing myself in a self-made hot tub for an hour. From then on I'd be far more careful about which emotions I was sending to people.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Oh don't worry, people you recognize are going to start showing up _more_ soon. Be patient.**

**Once the chapters are released there is no one to stop you from skipping ahead.**

**Hmmmm...skipping to the part where she is relevant, established and surrounded by more important people, and pretending like anything before that doesn't exist because you think that part of her story doesn't matter...sounds familiar...now that's just cold. Maybe even 300 years cold, huh?**


	7. Chapter 7: Interlude

Report Filed by Mini-Fairy ID 0065298211 on 09.04.2020 in Paris, France)

Unknown BoB encountered during a collection. Identified as BoB based on inhuman eyes which change colors dramatically.

Other noted characteristics: Black hair (odd white shine), fair/tan complexion, slight build, approximately 5'7" (167.64 cm), all black clothing save white jacket. No audio data to identify language or country of origin.

Found perched near a child's window at night. Due to this, a threat assessment is recommended.

Updated Orders: Recon and Report

* * *

Report Filed by Mini-Fairy ID 02847559613 on 07.11.2022 in Castine, Maine, USA)

Emoticon (temporary name) seen interacting with two adult humans. Humans were in some sort of verbal altercation when Emoticon's hands and eyes glowed red. One human then proceeded to strike the other.

Threat assesment now strongly recommended. Add anger evocation to the file along with previously reported hydrokinetic and pyrokinetic ability. Also be sure to mark standard BoB stamina and durability and constitution.

Updated Orders: Recon and Report

* * *

Report Filed by Mini-Fairy 4956781457 on 7.11.2022 in Castine, Maine, USA)

Spotted moving shadows in town. Three noted nightmares, and one reported Nightmare.

Dispatch Bunnymund or seasonally appropriate field-cleared helper to resolve.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Now things are getting interesting, that is if you consider filing incident reports interesting. I don't know, maybe you're into that sort of thing.**


	8. Chapter 8: Before

Song) Chopin Etude Op. 25 No. 11

Sailing and Seamanship, Check. Next on my list was to get myself to Asia. I wanted to learn every martial art I could find a teacher for. I was heading South towards New York. I'm sure there were closer airports with flights to Asia but I could guarantee that New York would have one. I was jogging through some portion of the Connecticut hills and forests when an odd shadow fell over the trees. The sky was cloudless today and it was early spring. A little too early for random rain. I was resolved to keep running regardless but the shadowiness stayed around me. It felt like it was following me. In a clearing I stopped. I was in the sun again but the shadow crept right up to the point where the light beat it back.

By all accounts of physics that I knew this was not supposed to happen. But one might imagine that I had become accustomed to things that shouldn't be after the past few years. I squinted into the shade. For several minutes I just stood there, looking. And the darkness was looking back. I could feel it. It reeked like old sweat and hot breath. The air was filled with a dusty ash color. Acrid, like smoke.

"You're really going to make me come out there, aren't you. I suppose out of courtesy, after all you did seem to take time out of your busy day…"

A man stepped out of the shadows. He looked uncomfortable, shielding his eyes and stepping no further than a few meters from the treeline. A long shadow extended behind him, connecting him to the dim shade of the forest.

"There. Now you see me. But more importantly, I see you and that my girl is a gift, especially for someone as young as you. Why, you can't be more than ten!"

He was tall and long, a man stretched thin and as result gaunt. His skin was ashen like the stench on the air. Robed in inky gray and black, it was difficult to look directly at him. The sun seemed to shine holes in him and certain parts seemed to fade out. Judging by the look on his face, it must be have been taking great effort to stay there. His eyes remained always there though. They were the one part that didn't match. Rimmed in gold, they contrasted from his smokey appearance. I couldn't help but feel they didn't fit. His comment on my age made my eyebrows twitch in just for a moment. He looked to be about thirty five, but also not. His posture, his manner of speaking said something older. His gaze was intense, but I refused to look away. I hadn't had eye contact in so long…

"Allow me to introduce myself, I am Pitch Black, I am-"

"Fear."

He stopped midsentence. He didn't look offended at my interruption so much as put slightly off his groove. The word has just barely squeaked out of me I'm surprised he heard it all. I had been years since I'd spoken to anyone. My thoughts hadn't escaped my head in such a time that the sound of my voice surprised even me.

But now that I'd said it, it was true. I'd recognized the feeling almost immediately. The look of it. I'd seen it in my travels many times. I'd never had any motivation to meddle in it yet. But here he was.

"I won't dishonor a first impression by lying. Yes, I am the personification of fear. Does it bother you, my dear?" With this he seemed to flex some sort of power. The shadows around the clearing turned restless, somehow moving even though nothing was really there. He wanted it to bother me, or maybe just expected it to. But he hadn't done anything to me, not yet at least. Despite his saccharine use of 'my dear' it wasn't like when catcallers did it. It was like it had slipped out, a habit. His company intrigued me.

"No." I said. I was standing hands in my pockets. All the while I never stopped looking in his eyes.

"A lady of reservation. Appreciable. How is it you know who I am, has someone told you stories?"

"I don't you who you are." I shook my head. In his eyes I saw a little bit of confusion, even though his face didn't move, as if the shadow had turned to dusty gray stone.

"Then how d-ah, no matter. There'll be time enough for that another day. Even if you don't know who I am, you know my name. May I inquire as to yours?"

I opened my mouth as if to respond out of instinct, but then closed it again. He waited expectantly, hand still shielding his eyes, though less than before. Their golden shine not unlike the setting sun behind him. My name...I never realized that without someone to use it, it was rather arbitrary. Like that old riddle, it belongs to you but everyone else uses it. My old one, just didn't seem to fit. To think about what I'd lost still kind of hurt, and my old name still seemed very much a part of that. The night I left came to my mind, and I found my voice again.

"Mimic."

"Just Mimic?" he pressed. I nodded. "Well alright Miss Mimic. Consider us acquainted. It is a rare thing for a new spirit to enter our world, to meet one is an uncommon pleasure." He grinned, though it was very much through the grimace the sun inflicted on him.

My curiosity got the better of my mild discomfort at conversation after so long without it, "our?"

"Yes, of course." he removed his hand from shading his face and took a step forward toward me. I didn't move, though my eyes flicked to the shadows which had suddenly stilled.

"By all the stars, you don't know, do you? What you are?"

Now one of my eyebrows cocked up. What a weird question to ask someone. And yet, my life was weird, and truth be told I did not know what I was any further than just 'me.' I'd just given myself a new name. If that meant anything…

"I guess I don't."

"You, my dear, are a spirit. The living embodiment of something, something that matters. You are a conduit to immense power. What ever you were before, if there was truly anything before this for you, now you're a force of nature." We stared at each other awhile. He made it sound so dramatic, very grandiose. But at the same time, it was believable. I could do all these new marvelous things and I while I'd seen the others, Santa and Sandman, this man, Pitch Black, had just implied that I was like them. A thought that had never occurred to me.

"Like Santa?"

The quiet nonchalance of Pitch's presence faltered and exchanged for a twinge of disappointment. I wanted to take the words back, since they seemed to have broken our simple, and easy, dialogue. But quick as it came, it went again. But I still felt sorry, and looking into his eyes I saw some sorry appear there too. It was like the gold got a little bit brighter.

"You could say that, but they seem to be somewhere we are not, don't they...and how are you doing that…" he broke eye contact and for a moment it was like the shadows all lunged in towards him, coating him further in smoke until his face snapped up again to mine. He strode quickly towards me, too fast for someone who seemed to hate the sun. Then I realized that I'd seen the sun setting behind him and the shadows crawling further from the trees. Over the course of our conversation night was falling.

He was still walking toward me, I braced one foot back prepared to run as hard as I could. If what he said was true and he was like me, or I was like him, a spirit, he was likely just as fast as me. I could only hope it wouldn't come to that. Pitch clearly knew more about how my world worked now than me. I didn't like that. He stopped a scant foot away. Bending forward and reaching down he seemed to reach for my face. I twitched and he saw. He paused his hand, instead looking at me as if I were under a microscope for analysis.

"Your eyes are remarkable Mimic, darling."

I could hear my heart beat in my ears. But I picked up my posture, unclenched my hands in my pockets.

"Thanks."

In a moment he was a few paces back, composure restored. He looked far more solid now. If anything, he seemed bigger as shadows added mass to him.

"Forgive me my dear, as I said it is a very rare thing to meet a new spirit so my first impression skills are what you might call rusty. And as I've seemed to be the first to meet you at all, you've given me quite a treat. It is a small world, I'm sure we'll cross each other again. In the meantime, farewell young one."

And like that he vanished into the trees. The night was still dark but he had taken a certain kind of darkness with him. The thought came to me that if he'd wanted to hurt me , there would have been no one able to hear me scream. But as the shadows left with him so did that nightmarish thought. What little of it remained doubled my resolve to get to Asia.

I reminded myself as I picked up pace once more that I ought not to draw too many assumptions about Pitch Black. He'd been cordial to the point it being antiquated, and I had no one else of 'our kind' to compare him to. I'd had my fair share of awkward impressions, I supposed. No matter his strange manner or how he radiated something I wasn't quite comfortable with, I had no reason to outright dislike him. I might just keep on my toes now that it seemed I was no longer quite as isolated in this world as I believed.

* * *

**A/N:**

**There, she's met someone. **


	9. Chapter 9: Before

Song) Cynics and Critics by Icon for Hire

"Your skills are progressing very quickly, Mimic." Pitch's voice sounded out from the shadows of the bamboo forest. It was night and I was practicing one of the more advanced forms that had been giving me trouble the past week.

"I've always been a fast learner." I said, not even startling. I could always sense Pitch creeping up on me. It had been three years after all. He was still the only spirit I'd ever spoken to. For me that was still a reasonably long time, though every time I saw him he reminded me that for him it was merely a drop in the river of his long lifespan.

"If you're so keen to learn, why don't you take me up on my offer to train you?" I couldn't see him, but I caught glimpses of him between the tall bamboo stalks, his words melding with the rustling. I didn't need to really see him, I knew where he was by following the fear. It was a feeling I could never really get used to. And no matter how many times we crossed paths the hair on the back of my neck never stopped standing on end when he got near. I just got better at dealing with it.

"I don't think I'm quite there yet. Like you said, I'm only 8 years old." I'd fallen into the convention he used of referring to my age not from date of birth, but date of rebirth. I was still moving through my forms. In a flash I kicked out, breaking a stalk of bamboo and making Pitch step to the side so as not to be hit by it as it fell.

"You seem to be doing just fine, darling." he grinned. I raised an eyebrow at him. Once I'd asked him to smile for real and he just looked at me. It was one of many signs I'd begun to notice. But he was ever polite. He'd never so much as looked at me with malice. A snide remark here and there, but I gave as much I took in that category. It made his eyes glow brighter. But his smiles never reached his eyes. He always was lurking. What little he'd told me about the spirit world was laced with bitterness and spite. It was like the world had wronged him. It was almost enough evidence to run. But run where? We were not normal human beings. No matter where I seemed to be, he found me. Every few months he'd appear for small talk. I wasn't one for small talk.

I won't be ashamed of the fact that I was also curious. He was the one link to my new world. And I eat information like waffles for breakfast.

"I'll admit that learning from someone who can see and critique has its appeals…" I did not vocalize how I didn't want to utterly embarrass myself in front of someone with centuries of experience.

"But…"

"What I really want to know you won't tell me. I want knowledge. Not just fighting, but about the spirit world. Seeing as I _am_ a spirit."

"I see why you want it, but I'm just trying to protect you. Ours is a world of complications. And not everyone in it is very nice."

So what.

"No matter where I go in the world that'll be true. And don't act like you want to protect me-" I molded one of my glass bracelets into a sword and slashed down some bamboo, "because you don't seem the type."

He laughed at that. A hollow sound.

"Perceptive as always. Do you know your eyes flash when you aren't thinking about it? You send out a little wave of emotional energy." he began to circle me. It was a habit of his. I sighed and stopped my forms. I pulled down my hood and turned as he walked.

"Seeing as I can't see my own eyes, no. But I can see the colors around myself change." And I'd gotten better about not radiating my feelings. Apparently I still needed to get better.

"And just like that your guard is up again and your eyes are a rainbow shielded by a silver sheen." his hands were clasped behind his back as he walked.

"Thanks Mr. Black, I'm well aware my resting color is silver." I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms.

"I'll make you a little deal," he said facing me head on and unclasping his hands, "I teach you to fight properly, and in exchange for no longer making me wince at your tiny human ways, I'll tell you whatever you want to know about the spirit world."

We stood there in silence. If there was one thing I appreciated about him, it was that he never minded if I stood and thought for a minute.

"Fine, but not until I've finished up here. That will be in a few months time." I responded, uncrossing my arms and throwing them up in concession, acting as if the prospect didn't excite me, not even a little.

"Fine." He walked towards me. I no longer tensed in his presence. I resisted the urge so naturally at this point. He held something out to me. I picked it up. It was a compact mirror, simply made but its lines were clean and elegant. A matte gray metal, perfectly circular and inside, a mirror untouched.

"Happy Rebirthday, Mimic."

* * *

**A/N:**

**What are suspicions without evidence? Irrational? Intuition? **

**Some things are worth asking some people about. But then again, some things are never worth asking about from a certain kind of people.**


	10. Chapter 10: Before

Song) Thunderstorm by Riverdance

Fighting someone with powers is very different from fighting someone without them, even though the principles are still the same. With Pitch, his reach was extensive. I could be meters away and the shadow of his arm could still hit me like a freight train. In the beginning he'd simply send a wave of nightmare sand at me in an attempt to knock me down. But he was nothing compared to the force of the ocean. He had to resort to more innovative means to get me off my feet.

Repeatedly he'd knock me down by overwhelming my ability to process the situation. While I could now move faster than ever before my mind still had to catch up. But to my credit I never stayed down. I'd roll and stand up, I'd push to my feet, I'd peel myself off the ground, sweating and heaving. Eventually I stopped needing to as I got faster.

Today was particularly relentless.

"Again. Again! And harder!" the words rang in my ears. I was never hapless to begin with, but now I was truly something. I could go toe to toe with Pitch for 30 mins straight. Hours would pass. He'd attack and I'd fend him off long enough to get some distance between me and him. Then I'd rush in. Pitch seemed to enjoy a long grapple, drawing out the rush of nerves that I'm guessing people got when they fought him. I did not. A longer fight was a longer window to lose.

For a long time I'd fought with just technique alone. I didn't want to rely on my powers. But when it was no holds barred like it was today, I summoned them easily. Gone were the days where I could barely move a ball of water.

I'd learned to emulate fear and figured out that if I did it right, I could fade into the shadows just like Pitch. Not physically as he does, but in the dark I was difficult to see. And because the scent of my fear was so similar to the one that followed him everywhere, he couldn't sense me well either.

I crept around him. He sent a ring of sand out into the room (at least it seemed like a room though I'd yet to encounter its walls). That was new! If it hit me, he'd find me and surrounded in the dark as I was, that would not be to my advantage.

Sprinting in, I brought my right arm forcefully around and dropped my torso. My legs vaulted over the ring of sand as if I were rolling flat on my back over a table, I felt the air whoosh under my back. Naturally my foot made some sound as it landed and Pitch whirled to face me. But my plan had worked and I was close enough that I ducked under the vertical cut of his scythe and latched his scythe arm between my arm and my ribcage. He vanished his scythe and his other hand raced forward to punch at my face. I brought up my leg and kicked at his shoulder. His punch was flung back and I used the momentum to get under his arm, twisting it behind him. He coiled sand up my leg but I churned up some anger and burned it off. Because of that, Pitch, who was much stronger than me, wrenched his arm free of my very small hand. He turned and a thick bar of shadow swung at my stomach sending me flying. I curved back and got my hands on the ground, lowering myself onto my stomach and rolling back onto my knees. I rolled quick to the left as his scythe bore down again. This time I rammed my back into him, so my back was pressed against his chest. As his arms tried to close around me I brought forth happiness, enough that its yellow glow brought some significant light to what was always a dark space. This was a risky play, I'd never tried to do it before. I didn't know what would happen. I sent the happiness into Pitch. I felt him push back but I pushed harder. It was enough that he briefly went slack. I hauled his weight over me and sent him down to the ground. He recovered quickly, shock on his face. I needed to end this while he was off balance. I saw him pulling a great number of shadows. I didn't want to have to deal with ten shadow soldiers and him. I dove forward. He wasn't expecting something so crude. When he redirected my fall rolling us across the ground so he'd end up on top, I let him.

"For someone so graceful, that was a stupid move." he had an elbow at my neck and was smiling at me. The leftover happiness I'd dosed him with was still in eyes. It had worked.

"It was stupid to think I was predictable." I shot back, my own grin widening as both of us looked to my glass stiletto which I'd deftly gotten up to his neck as I'd feigned pushing him off me. Whatever happiness was left in his eyes was gone faster than a shadow in the sun.

As we stood up he began to pace.

"That's the fourth time this week, my dear." he paused, "Well done."

I brushed the praise aside, "Thanks now answer my question."

"Alright."

I checked my mirror. My eyes were creamsicle orange with excitement. I jogged into the dark, weaving around crumbling stone pillars and up chipped stairs and ramps. Eventually I came across what I was looking for: a pair of black high back chairs on opposite sides of a long stone table.

I dropped into one and pulled my feet up onto the seat, extending my arms forward, resting them on the tops of my knees. Crouched up like a little monkey, I waited for Pitch to eventually wander back this way. My adrenaline rush from the sparring match was gone by the time he settled himself into his chair, leaning back with one arm on each arm rest.

"I seem to have forgotten your question my dear, would you mind repeating it?" he said nonchalantly. I rolled my eyes.

"No you haven't. Now cough up!" I shot back. Pitch used to be so taken aback by my directness. Now it just seemed to cause him mild irritation. Fair is fair. He's always creeping around. He sighed a long sigh and began.

_There are not many spirits in the world, compared to the multitude of humans and other beasts. Every spirit is made for a reason. They are there to fulfill a purpose, enhancing something in the world. Why they do? Only Moon knows. But they do. A spirit's purpose is their everything, and when they stop fulfilling their purpose, the world becomes off balance. I have already told you about the four elements and the four seasons and how they are guided by Mother Nature and Father Time. They are the spirits of concrete things. But there are also spirits of abstractions. Like-_

"Like you?" I interrupted. He scowled for a moment.

_Like Justice. And like you._

"Whoa there, we don't know what I'm the spirit of yet. At least I don't."

_Perhaps not, but we do know, darling Mimic, that your powers find their roots in your emotions and the emotions of others. You can convert emotional energy into other energies so far as I can tell. Now back to the question at hand. Abstractions do not tend to form groups like concrete spirits. They do not depend on the actions of one another for physical balance. The world is more forgiving it would seem if someone like the Spirit of Music gets out of hand._

"But there is one group, isn't there, the G-"

In an instant I found the darkness collapsing in on me and in another instant, I was sitting on the ground outside under the stars. It was Pitch's version of showing me the door. Goodness knows when I'd see him next. Every time he grew tired of me it could be a month before he popped up again acting like nothing had happened.

"Mr. Black, if you weren't my only source of information…" I trailed off. Who said he had to be? Certainly I could do a little investigating on my own, I was a free spirit after all. And I knew just where I wanted to start. Getting in would be the hard part. But it would also be half the fun.


	11. Chapter 11: Before

Song) New Tail from HTTYD Soundtrack 

There were only a few things I knew about Guardians. The only information I got was from when I got Pitch to rant. He'd go on about how they thought themselves above it all with their great big castles and their minions. I wanted to tell him that he lives in an underground castle and that his shadows are basically minions, but if I wanted to keep learning from him, I had to be more diplomatic. Pitch usually dropped me off right above his lair, so somewhere near Venice, Italy. That was the case this time as I'd been planted on the crumbling stone sidewalks near the Grand Canal.

Once he had let slip something about the Tooth Fairy and her palace. He'd been trailing off, something about the one time he got close. Close to what he didn't say. But he did mention that it was in Southeast Asia on an island. Santa obviously lived at the North Pole. But I wasn't sure how well I could handle that level of cold with no gear for as long as it would take to find the place. If I was gonna go there, I'd want to know where I was going. The Sandman had an island too. But Pitch had said nothing about where, and I did not like my odds of scouring 70% of the earth's surface. As for the Easter Bunny and the one he only called the Boy, he said nothing.

It seemed that Tooth Fairy was my best bet. If there's one thing I've noticed from these old folks, they are mildly sentimental. If the Tooth Fairy is as old as Pitch implies, then she's bound to have something informative. Aaaaand she'd also likely be the easiest to find.

The closest flight I could get was to Hong Kong from Italy. There were small planes I'm sure that could get me closer to the general areas I was considering, but I surely didn't know how to find them. Pitch had said that it was always warm at the Tooth Fairy's Palace. And that he'd always had to leave early because the sun rose early and set late. Sunrise and sunset were products of latitude, but if day was long in the summer, then it would be short in the winter. There's no way for day to be long year round. Unless it was just relative to different kinds of areas in the same place, I thought. Pitch doesn't actually have an issue with daytime. He has a problem with light. It shines through him which is uncomfortable. Just like being walked through is for me.

So if the Tooth Fairy lives in a place that gets a lot of direct sunlight...it must not be blocked by anything tall...or it is someplace tall. I guessed that the Tooth Fairy must live on an island with mountains. Since the island was described as near Southeast Asia, I ruled out anything far out to sea. But I also ruled out anything close enough that humans couldn't ignore. It was obvious that spirits like us tended to be inconspicuous. So between 100-200 km offshore.

Happiness energy is, by nature, yellow and levitational. Happiness makes things float. Pitch definitely was no help in me working with it, but I could use it to fly. It generally manifests itself as a pair of big yellow wings and a soft glow. The type of wings could vary, but for my search angel wings would get me the best mileage. The wings weren't solid by any definition. There were like...if someone made the northern lights into a shape. The primary concern was that I couldn't fly for super long. Like any other energy, it's got its limits. Being that happy for that long is exhausting. I couldn't cross the Pacific with it, but I could hopefully cruise over the South China Sea and the Bay of Bengal as long as I needed to.

After two hours of searching I found something. The island was blink-and-you'll-miss-it tiny and the mountains were covered and surrounded by thick forest. Maybe it was luck but the rising sun glinted off something in the mountains and flashed me in the eyes. It was all I had to go on and it's not like time was an issue for me...anymore.

I was smart enough to know that flying in was a dumb idea. The Tooth Fairy and her tooth fairies fly all over this place and would surely notice a 172 cm person flying in for a landing. No, I would have to be more innovative to get inside. I landed on the beach, just at the line where sand gave way to a seemingly endless amount of trees. This island wasn't large, I should be able to get to the middle, where I presumed anything of value would be, before dusk, if not before noon.

Although Pitch had said her palace was bathed in sun, the forest surrounding it was masked in perpetual shade. The canopy overhead was so thick that it was like twilight underneath. I took care to make as little noise as possible. An idiot could make the leap that there must be millions of fairies making rounds to keep up with tooth loss, which meant thousands of potential eyes to spot me.

I'd made it to the foot of the mountains when it seemed as if every bird in the forest rose up to screech all together. I clapped my hands over my ears and ducked into a crevice as the sound rose up from the treetops. What on earth? Suddenly I heard the sound like an army of humming dragonflies approaching. Tiny little wings all beating as what must be a guard of fairies swept out. The birds must have been an alarm. How the heck does one train birds to act as an alarm?! I had to think, to disappear somehow. I doubted that too many humans have ever set foot on this island. There was nothing for me to blend into. They'd find me for sure. It would be more useful if I could turn into something that wouldn't be noticed, uh uh a rock, a tree, um a mouse, anything.

In my stress, or desire to be small and unseen, I felt myself shrink into the crevice. It must have just been my imagination, until I opened my eyes and found everything in the world to be much bigger than me! I looked to see that I had actually turned into a mouse! I screamed which came out as a squeak, which made me squeak again. The humming grew louder, I'd have to deal with this problem in a few minutes. I gauged the fairies to be just outside my hiding spot and so I scrambled behind a mossy rock and waited. Some fairies flew into the crevice and poked around but I stayed absolutely still and they did not see me, thank goodness. I hadn't given any thought to what might happen if I got caught. I just knew that I didn't want to be caught. Pitch hadn't made these guys out to be all that nice. Consummate professionals, I'd thought, although I was still foggy on what it exactly was that they did, save for collecting teeth and giving gifts and obvious stuff. I'd loved them growing up, but it my time living, I'd never met them. I was willing to give both them and Pitch the benefit of the doubt until I got more information. Speaking of, the fairies were gone, and I needed to get back on task.

I exhaled and just like that I was plopping onto my own human butt in my little hiding spot. Checking to make sure I had all ten fingers and opposable thumbs, which I did, I made a game plan for how to get further into the interior, especially this new development in my capabilities. I'd never be able to cross any amount of distance as a mouse. And clearly trekking as a human would just lead to more unwanted attention. In the end, I settled on attempting a bird transformation and praying that the other birds wouldn't notice that I was a fraud.

It took me seven tries to get it. The first time I just closed my eyes and tried to be a bird which did absolutely nothing. I tried to remember how stressed I was when I'd turned into a mouse and that hadn't worked either. Maybe happiness again, since birds fly, but all I managed to do was sprout some yellow feathers. Only after summoning happiness, and reeeaaallly imagining what it felt like to already be a bird, did I manage to turn myself into a yellow bird. It was an odd first experience, especially because bird eyes can see wider than human eyes, it was like looking through a fish-eye lens on steroids.

But I got the hang of it and that's the important part.

Things went much faster now that I could fly, which let me tell you is just as exhausting since now I had to use emotions and muscles to keep myself in the air. But in no time I'd flown right into a conglomeration of gold towers. My jaw hit the floor and it was jarring enough that I transformed back into a human. I rolled down onto the gold mosaic tiling of one of the pillars, scrambling to my feet and pressing my back to the pillar, hoping nothing had seen my less than graceful landing.

It was fortuitous that the one pillar I'd landed on was the only one not swarming with fairies. I counted off and I was one of seven pillars, though under closer examination towers was likely a more appropriate word. Each tower had flat rings going up them, acting a floors which were open to the air. Everything was painted gold, purple, pink, turquoise, and green, with some sapphire blue sprinkled in. I wouldn't be surprised if those were real gemstones in the walls. Bridges led to some accessory structure, which hung like lamps from the main towers. If there wasn't open sky above me, I'd say that the entire palace was built upside down, with its foundation in the clouds and dangling down.

It was one of the most beautiful places I had ever seen. I wanted to sit on the edge of the floor and take it all in. Assuming I wasn't found and kicked out first. Maybe if I asked really nicely they'd let me walk around. I quickly realized that asking before trespassing was probably the way better strategy that I should've taken. But also in hindsight I had no way of finding her to ask, save for staking out at a kid's house and waiting for them to lose a tooth. I dunno maybe find a 6 year old hockey player, but something tells me that such a method would not have impressed her any more than me showing up here.

It would seem to be a case of damned if I do and damned if I don't.

The closest thing I was looking for was a library of some sorts. Something told me that people this old and entrenched in old ways wouldn't have gotten the software update. Maybe Santa. An operation that large required optimization and I doubt he's making toy robots without at least a little know how. I hoped that room wasn't anywhere near all those fairies. I didn't know how to turn invisible, or if I could. Logically, something like archives wasn't going to be near the day-to-day stuff, it would get in the way. That at least suggested that a library wasn't going into to be inside that swarm. So if I was lucky, it would be on the same tower as me. I was out of sight for now so I laid down on the floor near the edge and dangled my head down, looking for any hints. There was a large room hanging from a golden metal branch one level down that looked like it had some books in it. Nowhere better to start than there. I swung my body over the ledge until I was hanging by my hands. I floated myself with some happiness I had left over the room, planting my feet softly on the floor. I expected it to move, but despite it's hanging appearance, it was fully fixed to the branch above, thankfully stopping it from swinging wildly around as I walked. I doubted such a thing was a problem for the airbound fairies.

I gingerly ran my fingers over the spine of a book, bound in a soft red leather, clearly old, but not too word. It was faded but not fraying. It was in a language I couldn't read, just my luck, but not statistically unlikely since I only spoke English, German, Chinese, and a little French, the latter two acquired in my travels. I softly flipped the pages, careful not to rip the delicate paper, and found it contained picture. Ah, the universal language. From these pictures I garnered what seemed to be some history. The history of the palace, of some flying elephant, and of the Tooth Fairy. She looked very pretty in the portrayal, and not all that mean. It wasn't the happiest of histories but I don't know too many histories of anyone that are happy. I put the book back and went to grab another when a globe on the shelf caught my eye. I doubted anyone had recently moved it but the 'snowflakes' inside seemed to be falling still. A snowglobe. Not exactly on brand for tropical Southeast Asia.

I picked it up and tried to see what was inside. The snow inside was swirling so thickly that the middle was obscured. I brought it close to my face and squinted through the mistiness of it. I thought I could make out some kind of building. Given that it was snowy, I guessed,

"North Pole?" I whispered, thinking aloud, stupidly forgetting my incognito searching. Immediately the snowflakes fell to the bottom of the globe and revealed a lively, and massive, complex filled with warm light and emitting small bursts of steam.

"What do you think you're doing in here!" A commanding voice behind me announced. I spun around, globe still in my hands to see who must be the Tooth Fairy in the entryway of the room. She looked much like her illustration, shorter than me though her hovering height made up for that. Her sweet face, suspiciously frowning at me. I could feel her fear, and her courage, and her anger at me. Couldn't blame her.

"Who are you!" she asked. I could hear the room being surrounded by fairies. No way out, no easy one at least.

"I-" I tried to stand tall but a small fairy, smaller than the others, flew in and pecked me on the face, just under my eye. I had enough restraint not to swat at her, that wouldn't help my case, but I reflexively brought my hand up to my face, and the large globe slipped. In the moment I lamented how much trouble I'd be in once it broke, goodness knows how old or priceless it was. It hit the floor and I saw the Tooth Fairy's eyes widen and she tried to yell something, but I was swallowed into something that made my brain feel like spaghetti and awash in bright light.


	12. Chapter 12: Beginning

Songs) 1. Amaria by TSFH 2. The Dragon Book from HTTYD Soundtrack

When I landed, my head was swimming. It felt like it was coming back into my skull through my ears. I could feel smooth ground underneath me, so I must be indoors. I forced my eyes to come back into focus, even though the brightness of whatever wormhole I fell through made me see stars. I was in a room...with hardwood floors, dark and old judging by the smell. The cross beams are painted like...candy canes?

I smelled warm things. Hot chocolate, and fireplace ash, cut with the cool scent of peppermint and snow. I could feel my senses coming back to me. How long had I been lying here?! I needed to move! Before someone came investigating and caught me! I didn't even know where I was, but I had a pretty solid guess. I scrambled to me feet and began jogging down the hall, listening for pursuers. There was no way they didn't know someone was here. They couldn't be that secure in themselves could they, not to be suspicious?

Every hall and every corridor looked the same. The doors were clearly labelled, by year. 1844, 1845, 1846...I must be in some kind of storage section. I tried one the random annual doors. Locked. I didn't see any windows, my instinct was to go up. A building could run out of 'up.' There was no telling how deep underground the North Pole went. Eventually the year numbers stopped and I came to a hallway with a window. Thank gosh! Not that the outdoors looked all that promising. Icy plains and cliffs as far as the eye could see. I could hear the wind howling through the glass. I stopped a moment to gather my senses, leaning my forehead against the refreshingly cold window. My breath fogged the glass which then frosted over from the cold. The tiny reflections of the frost showed movement behind me. I turned to see a massive creature, covered in fur, plodding down the hall! I froze and waited to see if he'd notice me, at least I thought it was he from the fluffy moustache. Maybe he would just walk right by.

He did. I exhaled a silent sigh.

But then a second one turned around the corner as looked right at me. Heck! I was so excited to be standing next to a window that I had stupidly failed to consider that the window was at the end of a dead-end hallway. The creature garbled something incomprehensible out, dropped whatever it was he was holding and came charging towards me.

I pushed my back into the wall as if it was going to magically extend into a longer hallway I could run away down. Foolish hope, but then I felt the freezing cold of the window at my back. Looking left, I saw the latch right over my left elbow. Man, please let the window open out. I knocked the latch up with my elbow, and tumbled out the window. The wind howled, but offered no cushion as I plummeted down. My fall was much shorter than I anticipated. Instead of hitting snow, I felt my back slam into wood again, though wood dusted in snow. The fall had knocked the wind out me, but for second time now I got to my feet, sucking air in. I'd landed on a balcony one floor down. Still no rest for the...me. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Furry would stick his head out the window any minute now. I ducked into the doorway attached to my lucky balcony and I used a bit of waterbending to remove the Mim shaped imprint in the snow on the balcony, by pushing all the snow off the balcony. It was a blizzard out here, the balcony would look untouched in an hour or so. With any luck, Bigfoot up there would think I fell all the way to the ground, uh ice, below and concentrate the search outside the building, or even better stop searching altogether.

To say it was a blizzard out here was an absolute understatement. It was a white-out storm with winds blowing hard enough to have my hair whipping violently around my face. My fingers were tingly and numb, enough to make me uncomfortable even with my durability since my rebirth. Regular winters were now just slightly chilly. But this was the North Pole. Even I was feeling the cold. I doubt it could permanently hurt me at this point, but it was uncomfortable nonetheless.

Flexing my hands to bring some blood back into them, I turned the brass handle with my hand wrapped in the cuff of my jacket. No use getting frozen to a door where someone could come and find you at any moment. It was unlocked and I was enveloped in warmth and soft warm light. Everything was covered in dark wood panelling, much like the floor I'd teleported onto, but here were rows upon rows upon rows of bookshelves. Exactly where I wanted to be.

The only question now was...which book do I start with. Best start with something important. This library was filled with millions of books and those are just the ones I could see. Only some of them would interest me. I wouldn't be surprised if Santa had advanced mechanical machinery books in here. Not something I particularly needed to be reading right now. Maybe another day. There was a wooden case with with a giant leatherbound red book with gold detailing and a giant G in the middle. Sounds like a good place to start. I gingerly opened the case, thankful that the hinges didn't creak despite the case's apparent age. The book was heavy, maybe the pages had real gold leaf on all the edges. Who was I kidding, it was definitely real gold. When you have unlimited access and means to the whole world, why would you settle for counterfeit?

Clutching the book to my chest, I was on the hunt for a safe place out of sight to curl up and read. Someone would come in here eventually, even if it was just to dust, since the stacks were remarkably dust free. I needed a place where I could hear someone coming, but they wouldn't see me. If people, or bigfoot, weren't traipsing through too often, I might be able to grind through multiple books before I actually I have to evacuate. Pitch wouldn't miss me, at least not for a month or two. Even then, I don't think he'd miss me so much as notice that I was missing.

I found my spot in what looked like a return section. Books were stacked on the floor near carts, likely to be reshelved at some point. I made my way to the very back, so that if they started reshelving, I'd be hidden for a good while before they got to me. Moving books I made a small space for me, with walls of books on all sides. Look at me, excited about my little book castle when I'm in the actual heckin' North Pole. Without further adieu, I dug into the book.

…

Once again, I find myself with a book in a language that I can't read. Swell. But then, the longer I looked it was like the letters blurred and then came back into focus into my familiar, very readable, language. Magic book. I guess important books get magic around here.

Man, the stuff in these pages! It's a complete compendium of all things Guardian related. Their history, every Guardian whose ever been, even this oath that they have to take. I spent a few days poring over the pages, there was so much detail in its small neat writing and lustrous illustrations. I wondered if the Djinni was still being used by Santa, who I learned is actually called Nicholas St. North. You'd think an eight foot robot would be difficult to hide, but in this place, goodness knows. The book talked about Ombric and his giant tree and how he died. Guess that was one person I wouldn't get to meet. That one small sentence still shook something in me. Ombric was a Guardian and he died. Whatever high I was riding wasn't going to last forever.

I shouldn't have been as shaken as I was. Nothing lasts forever. And I was completely expecting to die at some point before being reborn. But I guess I got a little bit too used to throwing caution to the wind because nothing had managed to kill me yet. In calming down and thinking a little more rationally, I was still pretty darn durable. The book seemed to imply that the Easter Bunny, no E. Aster Bunnymund, and the Sanderson Mansnoozie were pushing at least 1000 years old. No need to feel worried yet. If Ombric is as old as the book says, maybe extreme old age eventually got him.

I softly ran my fingers over the gilded letters of the Guardian Oath, and then over the signatures at the bottom. For some of the signatures, the ink was old and faded. Bunnymund's paw print and North's spiky script were so old they were practically powdery. Queen Toothiana's and Sanderson's looked newer but still quite old. Only one name looked even remotely recent. Written at the bottom in white ink, was the loopy and light lettering of one Jackson Overland Frost. This must be the one that Pitch only calls 'the boy.' I'd yet to see any illustrations of him in the book. I skimmed through but found only a heading stating Jack Frost ne. Nightlight followed by several blank pages. Wow, this guy must be recent if his chapter hasn't even been written down yet. Nothing makes me more curious than a chapter that hasn't been written yet. Talk about a cliffhanger.

If the oath they take is indicative of anything, these people don't sound all that bad. They are protecting children. What could be better than that? Pitch made them sound all stuffy and horrid. Upon reflection, there are plenty of people who supposedly do good work but really aren't that great. Corruption in high places and all that. I'd have to find multiple sources before coming to a decision. Part of me really wanted to think these people are everything the book says they are. But Pitch, shifty though he may be, is the only one to tell me anything and was considerate enough to say anything at all. I'd have to find more sources before coming to any decisions. Guess I'd be hiding out here for a while then.

Thumbing back to where I left off I started digging into the history. The first piece was titled The First War. War? Against whom? Pitch gave me the impression that there weren't that many of us, so in the whole wide world who would end up having grief with another spirit, let alone a whole group. How did they even run into each other. I took me a week just to find Tooth Palace. One of Pitch's remarks about my age came back to me. I guess with enough time and patience, which these spirits must have in spades, you can manage to tick anyone off.

My thoughts were interrupted as heavy feet plodded through the library. I froze and even held my breath. Nestled in my castle of books I waited for them to leave, but then I head of a great growling cry. Must be one of the yetis I just read about...noticing the most important book in the library wasn't in its case... Heck! He sprinted out of the room. I had to replace the book before he returned with help. I extracted myself from the mountain of books and tried to clamber over to the floor, holding the massive book with one arm, climbing with the other. One of the volumes slid out from under my hand and I went tumbling head first down. In all my training and grace, I quickly flipped over and landed on my feet on the floor wasting no time in sprinting full speed back to the case. I put the book back in and closed it. My hiding spot was now a hovel of crashed books. I heard the approach of many footsteps. Running.

I could jump out the window I came in, and while any direction would eventually get me to warmer climates, I wasn't sure if I could fly far enough to make it to someplace useful. It would be better to wait it out here somehow until I can find a better means of transport out. I'd teleported in; I hadn't the faintest idea where I was geographically aside from waaayyyy up North.

With my previous hiding spot compromised, I had seconds to come up with another one.

The doors burst open and what must have been Nicholas St. North boomed out.

"Missing?! The book is right there!"

Garbled Yeti noises responded.

"Maybe you need a break Dmitri, all the book binding for this Christmas must be getting to your head."

More garbled growling.

"Wait, you're right. Those books are always neatly stacked. We both know how Kristofer is about tidiness. That must have been the crash we heard on the way down here. Now I'll admit it. Someone is here. Everyone fan out and search. Be on your guard."

My hiding place was not ideal. But I kept still and hoped that no one would notice me. As long as they don't look up.

I could feel their footfalls as they moved throughout the library, shaking the shelves ever so slightly. I watched with my eyes, not daring to move my head. I could see Nicholas St. North several rows away, white beard obscuring the serious line of his mouth as he wandered around. He turned about and began to stroke his beard, in thought. He was looking right at me. But in thought he didn't really see me. Then his eyes refocused.

"There!" he shouted, pointing at me, "top shelf of row 17!"

All attending yetis began to converge on me. I leapt from the shelf where I'd been sitting, as a mouse no less! How he'd known I wasn't just a mouse was not something I currently had the time to contemplate. I scrambled onto the top of the shelf one row over and began to run towards the window. No other options now. I stayed as a mouse in hopes that my smaller size would make me both harder to see and harder to catch.

I made it all the way to the end and jumped, how my mouse form would handle the 50 foot drop I wasn't sure, but I had to hope I'd be fine.

I never hit the floor. I stopped midair locked in some kind of levitation that certainly wasn't my doing. I saw North's hand outstretched towards me from down one of the rows. Of course, North, apprentice of Ombric, master magician.

"Ah ha! Very clever trick. But trick is over." he waved his hands in a complicated pattern, muttering old words I didn't know. Nothing happened. Was something supposed to happen?

"A being of belief eh? In the shape of a mouse. That was my little trick, it is spell, that tells me what you are. But my reverse transformation spell did not work. So it isn't magic that turned you into mouse. You'll only turn back when you are ready, but know that I have some questions for you when you do."

He waved his hands again and now I was locked in some kind of magical containment field. It looked as thin fragile as bubble, but against my paws it felt like a stiff wall. He was right about one thing, I'd have to change back eventually, and when I did, I was still gonna be stuck.

"Come, back to Globe. We call Guardians. Bring her with. We will wait this one out."


	13. Chapter 13: Beginning

Song) Vengeance (instrumental) by Zack Hemsey

Six hours. That's how long I've been in this bubble, curled up with my tail around my paws, stuck in here as a mouse. I've yet to see a sneaky way out. I was starting to doubt that there was one. When it came to magic, I had neither knowledge nor experience and so this bubble was the largest problem. If it was gone, I could disappear, make a break for it, something along those lines. Such thoughts occupied my mind for the first 3 hours of my quality bubble time. Come the second 3 hours, my mind sobered to the fact that force was not the method for getting out of here. Wits on the other hand…

North had three yetis on guard around me with nets in hand, on the off chance mouse-me made a scramble for it. He stood at the console of a what I assume is the massive globe, spinning in the center of the even more massive room. Lights like sparkles shone bright all over the globe's surface. I knew my geography well from my travels. Lights congregated around major cities. It didn't take a genius to figure out that this was some kind of census, population-counter, type of thing. For people? For kids? I wasn't sure why Santa would care all that much about adults. So I settled on kid-counter. The rest of the room was simply a ring of floor, with ornate railings and whatnot, wrapping around the massive globe. It was one of at least 4 floors in this spherical portion of the building. He'd twisted and pushed a large switch and then I saw the Northern Lights flash out into the sky. I'd seen the Northern Lights before, during my travels. It had been part of my bucket list in those early days. But those had been dim and only green, even up in the northern regions of Canada. These were bright and vibrant, a chorus of pink, green, yellow, purple, and white.

Eventually the other Guardians began responding to the summons of the lights. First to arrive was the Sandman. When I saw his illustration in the book, I thought him being smaller than the rest was just an interesting illustrative choice. It would seem I was wrong. He was maybe a meter tall, not including his perpetual bedhead. He glittered in his robe and seemed to cast his dust everywhere. Wandering elves who got too close fell victim to the dust, no sand, and dropped straight to sleep. It was enchanting to watch him float and toddle around. It was like he was underwater, gravity just didn't work the same way. Looking at him made me feel calm. I just wanted to keep watching. Perhaps it was because I felt I knew him the best of the Guardians. I'd spent years watching his work every night. It really kept me going. There was something familiar about it, and him, that made this whole predicament seem less awkward.

That little smattering of peace was shattered by the arrival of Her Majesty the Tooth Fairy. With a whole entourage of fairies, of course. If she recognized me, I'd be on the hook for breaking and entering, not once but twice. Heck me.

Next was the Easter Bunny. Taller than me by a good deal, and fast moving. He thumped his way around the room making his greetings. The Sandman responded with some kind of visual signing, both with his hands and his sands. None of them seemed to have noticed me yet, with Toothiana muttering to her fairies almost constantly and North and Bunnymund involved in some sort of bickering. But Sandman saw me and made his way over. Floating up to rest his elbows on the table where I was being kept, he squinted at me. I felt like I was being X-rayed. I looked back and saw his effervescent peace and happiness glowing all around him. All my apprehensions must have escaped me, because his eyes flickered a bitter orange for a moment before returning to his natural gold. His eyes widened and he shook his head like someone had just tickled his nose. He dropped off the table and walked back to the other Guardians.

"Something interesting goin' on in that sandy head of yours?" a voice took Sandman's attention before he could reach the others.

This must be Jack Frost, 'the Boy,' the newest Guardian. He looked to be about my age, with snow white hair and icy blue eyes. He leaned on his staff, though clearly out of habit and boredom and not from any physical need to do so. He intrigued me; he looked so nonchalant, carefree. He laughed easily at something Easter Bunny said, twirling his long staff about his hands.

"Hold on, Sandy was just gonna tell me something?" he turned back to Sandman, who flashed a series of symbols over his head. A mouse was in the mix. North caught on the quickest.

"Ah yes, I called you all here to see if you knew anything about this?" and he waved his great arm in my direction. The Guardians congregated around my small prison, peering down at me in differing looks of curiosity and confusion.

"North, a mouse?" Bunnymund said, "is this really a group issue?"

"Yes, because you see Bunny, North Pole has no mice. This is not mouse, this is someone who looks like mouse. The question is: who?"

"I can do my best to ask." Toothiana offered and hovered close, emitting a series of quiet squeaks and hums. All I could see were her large pink eyes as she attempted to speak mouse to the one mouse on the planet who didn't understand mouse. Naturally I had nothing in response.

"Hm," she moved back, "not the talkative type, and certainly not part of the European division."

Bunny chimed back in, "North, last I checked there aren't any shapeshifters. Magical transformations yes, but actual shapeshifters, no."

"Then we have the pleasure of encountering the first…" Jack said, squinting at me in obvious curiosity. I felt like an animal in a zoo. And I'd had about enough of it. Today was a personal record for staying shifted, and in that moment I decided to change back. It was as much out of exasperation, as it was out of concern that if I stayed a mouse long enough, I might not be able to change back at all. Being stuck as a mouse for eternity did not seem at all appealing.

A chorus of gasps and then defensive faces greeted me when I unscrunched my eyes and shoulders, happy at least to see that I had returned to my usual state of black hair and opposable thumbs. I did my best to look non threatening. I didn't like my combat chances at the moment, now was the time for conflict de-escalation. They had weapons out, which really didn't help. I put my hands in front of me, open palm. _Not all attacks need weapons_ I mentally smacked myself. I did one better and put my hands up near my head. I was still inside the bubble, which was apparently a magically growing bubble. Great.

"You!" Toothiana exclaimed, flying right up to the borders of the bubble, "North this is the one who was sneaking around my Palace!"

"Well I guess we found out where she snowglobed herself to," Jack cut in, staff pointed loosely in my direction. I looked his way and his grip tightened. My head bopped around on a swivel, watching warily to see which of them would try and jump first.

Sandy shot the image of a pair of eyes over his head. Everyone looked at him and back at me. Bunny spoke up.

"Sandy's right. Look at 'er eyes. This sheila showed up in reports awhile back."

While I didn't know a thing about the reports he mentioned, I easily guessed what he meant about my eyes. In a flash, I had them silvered over. North marched forward, sword pointed and pushing the barrier of the bubble inward on me.

"Who are you?" he asked, voice low and dangerous.

"That's Emoticon?" Jack asked quietly looking sideways at Bunnymund. He sounded doubtful. Emoticon? Really? I cringed at the fact they couldn't come up with anything remotely better than naming me after an emoji. I tossed a look Jack's way. He underestimated me. Wasn't the first.

"My name is Mimic."

My voice was quiet, but it did not shake.

North's continuing advancement stopped and with a slight wave of his hand, the bubble faded into mist. Weapons stayed drawn though.

"Well Mimic, what are you doing here?"

"And what were you doing at my Palace?"

In moments like these, the truth really is the best option, seeing as what I was doing was innocent enough. I had to believe that people who protected children couldn't be all bad, even if they weren't perfect.

"Reading."

My answer surprised them as their weapons faltered a moment.

"Reading?" Bunny said in disbelief, "Anything else?"

"Uh...not...really...no."

I could sense the tension in the room mounting. The casual greens and blues and yellows of the group were changing into orange and ashy gray. Worry and fear. Things were not deescalating. I could feel it starting to get under my skin and make its way into my head. Not good not good. I spun up some calm. I pictured a quiet lake. I was good at calm. I could do calm. Here's to hoping I could make them do calm too.

"Mind her hands, mate!" Bunny's warning rang out as I let the deep blue calm wash out like a wave into the room. For a moment it seemed to work as things quieted and everyone's eyes turned blue as the calm hit them. All I could hear was the soft whoosh of my breath as I waited. A moment to run, and I didn't take it. Pitch would hardly have approved.

But they shook it off. My calm wore off. I didn't put too much into it to begin with, but I was hoping it would stick. I didn't want to seem like I was attacking. That plan didn't work.

"Mind control!" Bunny shouted, "she's tryna mess wi' our heads!"

"No-I was jus-" I tried to get an explanation out but they were well past listening.

"Ach!" North lunged forward and I dodged to the left, his swords flying past my shoulder. I scrambled around. Feathers hit my face but I ducked and pressed forward. I refused to draw my own weapons. Maybe because the idea of pulling a knife on Santa seemed absurd, even though he already had two swords pulled on me. Or some other reason I couldn't name. I didn't want to hurt anyone. Ice covered the floor, I couldn't move fast enough without slipping, I felt rope around my wrists.

The room was chaos. Everywhere I looked, just red, orange and ash. It was overwhelming.

"Please! I just wanted t-" I couldn't get the words out. I was drowning. The room was spinning and all I could sense was the anger, the mistrust, the fear. I couldn't contain it. I went numb.

I heard a high pitched shriek, like a sonic boom but higher and tighter. The room shook and I heard glass shatter. For a moment, I blacked out.


	14. Chapter 14: Beginning

No Song

I hit the floor on my hands and knees, but blissfully conscious. Around me, everyone else was coming to as well. I now had full intentions of running, but I felt completely and utterly exhausted. I took in the carnage around me. All the windows had been blown out and something had knocked everyone back several meters. I smelled soot and found the floor to be singed all around me. My movements left tracks in the powdered wood. The stuff was on my hands. I swiped at my pants, trying to get it off, for lack of something better to do with my hands. I began dragging my feet towards one of the blown out windows. All I wanted to do was go to sleep, to curl up on some secluded cliff and wake up when the sun came over the horizon. All I'd wanted to do was learn, about myself, about this world I'd been thrust into. See how spectacularly that had gone.

I heard movement behind me. I looked back to see a great ball of fur bowl me over. A yeti. I wasn't escaping this grip, not how I was right now. I could sense the high emotions all over the room, I pulled on them, drinking them up trying to juice myself back up, but it wasn't my powers that were shot, it was the rest of me. Whatever had happened…

What did happen?

Through the fluttering slits of my eyelids, I saw that all the damage was arranged in a clean ring around one spot. In that spot was a starburst of soot, and in the starburst were tracks of shuffling feet moving out. My feet. My tracks.

What did I do?

The last thing I remember was the other Guardians getting to their feet, unharmed, thank gosh. I didn't want to hurt anybody, I didn't want to hurt anybody. I just wanted to know. The yeti's fur was coarse but cushioning, and warm. I strained to hear what was being said, I needed to be ready for what came next, but against all will I was lulled to sleep.


	15. Chapter 15: Interlude

No Song

"What do we make of this, of 'er?" Bunny mused to the collected Guardians, who had retired to North's office in light of the damage in the Globe Room. After ensuring no critical machine damage, North made directions for repairs to Phil, the head yeti. Everyone had then followed him through the Workshop, with much parading on Jack's part, and into his office. The girl had been out cold when they got to her, though the yeti, Dmitri, holding her had grabbed from trying to make a desperate, and slow, attempt at escape. She had been taken to an empty room under guard; the North Pole had no prison. The room was deep in the lower levels. Unless she could teleport, she'd have a hard time getting out. North considered warding the room, but decided planning took precedence. The girl wasn't going to be doing anything for now.

"We hardly know anything about her, or her abilities, the show in the Globe Room just proved that." Tooth said.

"Clearly a loose cannon." Bunny responded, in a poor mood given the circumstances. Sandy added some symbols into the conversation.

"I do not always assume the worst!" Bunny retorted, mildly offended.

"Maybe not Bunny, but we should try to understand what happened logically, so we can make good decision about what to do with her." North paced around the room, stroking his beard with one hand.

"Well the report mentioned that she was an elemental-type thing, and that she can manipulate people's emotions." Jack tentatively started.

"I didn't know you read my reports, Jack." Tooth smiled proudly. Jack grinned back.

"Well, somebody's gotta keep tabs on things." he joked.

"Yeah, just usually not you!" Tooth fired back. Jack chuckled and frosted over the office window with a tap of his staff. He traced in a hummingbird and pulled it out of the window, sending it humming around the room before vanishing into a flurry of snowflakes.

"We get off topic." North refocused, "We can say emotional manipulations for sure, but at end, she set off some kind of explosion. No flash. Just concussion and heat."

Sandy popped a wizard's hat over his head. Magic?

"Nyet. If she knew magic she would not have sat in containment spell so long. It was not super strong magic."

"If not magic, then it was either machinery or her? My guess is her, there was no way she carrying an explosive large enough." Tooth considered.

"Unless, she had a small explosive, magically modified, tha' she go' from someone else." Bunny countered. Sandy nodded his head at this alternative, although he didn't look like he really believed any of these options.

"And who'd she get it from?" Jack jumped in, "North is only real magician left anymore. Besides you guys are all focused on the how. What about the why?"

The other Guardians looks skeptically his way. "What are you thinking, Jokul?" North inquired. He'd stopped pacing and was leaning on his desk. Jack was not expected for them all to suddenly just turn to listen to him. He'd only wanted to turn the conversation a little bit. Did he even have any thoughts? "Uh-" after a short reflection, he supposed he did. He started again.

"She appeared less than a decade ago, right? And you guys have been monitoring closer ever since I became a Guardian, so we can be pretty sure she's young, like really young."

Bunny nodded and added, "which means she probably doesn't have the experience to know when she's being manipulated. She coulda been told ta come 'ere and wreak some havoc."

Jack frowned in puzzlement, "yeah, but she's not actually a ten year old."

"Unless she's like you, Jack and doesn't remember who she was before." Tooth laid a hand on Jack's shoulder.

"But still, she didn't act dumb. I know a cornered rabbit. I've been a cornered rabbit, no offense." he cast a side-eye at Bunny who was fiddling with his boomerangs.

"None taken."

"-as I was saying, she was looking around, thinking. What person like that goes into a place and then tries to blow themself up?"

"I see your point" North muttered. It's possible that she banked on her being able to survive the blast, but there was no guarantee, especially once magical enhancement or spirit powers became involved. If a BoB took a kill shot, they would either get up and walk away, or they wouldn't. There was no telling. "But Jack, sometimes clever people get led astray."

"Doesn't she deserve the benefit of the doubt?" Jack asked. Sandy floated up to Jack's height with a thumbs up.

"She _did_ say she was only reading. Nothing was missing from my palace. Maybe she was just reading, like she said." Tooth agreed, "you did find her in the library."

"You said she might be like me." Jack continued, "and you once said that you would've helped me, if I'd asked."

"I'll admit, our cutting you out was a mistake. One I have no intention of repeating." North resolved. "Bunny?"

"I'm out-voted 'ere anyway, but what it's worth, fine. We'll watch and see."


	16. Chapter 16: Beginning

Songs) Vivaldi' Winter Movement 2

Ten days ago I was flying fancy free, looking for Punjam Hy Loo Palace and any information. Now I had gotten myself caught in the center of North Pole. The room had no windows, just a lighting fixture made of Christmas Lights, a soft shag rug, and some boxes. How had I not forseen this? Scratch that, I had forseen this as a potential consequence of getting caught, but I'd put all my energy into not getting caught. Consider this a lesson learned. All in all it wasn't an unpleasant prison cell. No shackles and chains, no cages. Not like Pitch's general decor. I'd never asked if they were used for any practical reason. If they weren't he might have been offended. If they were, well, no use asking when you're deep underground and standing next to a cage with an open door. I kept comparing the Guardians to Pitch. It was the only comparison I could make. Where Pitch was dark, the Guardians were light, but Pitch was less jumpy for sure. He listened whereas the Guardians...maybe they listened, but they certainly didn't believe. I'm not one for labels. Fear, Wonder, Hope, Dreams, Memories and Fun. One of these things is not like the other. But things were shaping up to be quite backwards so far.

A yeti was posted inside my little room. After eight years of sleeping outdoors, and on balconies and cliffs, when I wake up I don't flinch or roll. My eyes simply opened to the creme colored wool of the rug and a yeti sitting with his back to the door. I immediately closed my eyes again, but left them open enough to see just through my eyelashes. This yeti looked similar to the one who caught me just before I blacked out. The fur was the same color at least. He had a weapon which I recognized as the Dinner Knife from the Guardian Book. Look at me, all medium security. Could have been worse, could've been the Abominable Mood Swing. But there was no way I was going to be doing anything in here without Furry over there seeing me. From the second I moved I would be under scrutiny. But I could handle that.

I brought myself up to a sitting position, criss cross applesauce. His furry fist tightened around the handle of the Dinner Knife and he gave me a serious look. A sort of _don't do anything stupid_ look. I pulled up the corners of my lips, giving him a passive little half smile. Non-threatening. I made a big show of reaching into my pocket and the yeti, very agile for its size, reached over and picked me up by my wrist. Now dangling a quarter meter off the ground, I did absolutely nothing, just looked peaceably at the yeti who was glowering at my mirror which I held in my raised hand. He pried it out of my clenched fingers despite my futile attempts against it. He dropped me back on my feet and examined the mirror. He held it up close to his face, rotated it in his fingers, tapped it lightly on the wall. I followed him carefully with my eyes. That mirror was one of very few things I called my own. If he broke it...I'd still have to be good and amiable on the outside so I could get out of here. But I'd be upset on the inside. Satisfied that wasn't any sort of weapon, he opened it. Rotating his great big face he looked in the mirror, he was facing me so I couldn't see the mirror's face but I imagined such a small mirror would only show him his giant eye. It made me smile on the inside a little. It was a funny image.

Slowly I held my empty hand out. A silent gesture, asking for my mirror back. The yeti stared at me, a little suspicious, but after doing so for a time, he gently reached over and placed the closed mirror in my palm. I opened it and checked my eyes. They were still silvered over with the rainbow swirling deep in the background. I also briefly used it to examine the parts of the room behind me. Nothing promising.

The yeti drew back my eye, as he raised his fist to the door and pounded firmly on it three times. I was back to sitting on the rug, closing my mirror and putting it back in my pocket. I just looked up at him, shifting from one foot to the other, the floorboards creaking ever so slightly as he did so. After a few minutes of looking at each other, he sighed, his moustache waving outward, and sat back down on the floor with his back to the door.

Not a whole minute later the door opened out the yeti got quickly to his feet. Another yeti, somehow even bigger with gray and white fur, stepped in to exchange words with my yeti, as I now referred to him in my head.

Now was my chance. I needed to make a show of force, but not a show of harm. I wasn't going to let these G's think me too stupid. I was already ashamed of getting caught so unawares and caught because I lost control. I was still not 100% sure what had happened, but I wasn't going to let it happen again. Tall words seeing as there was still a lot about myself that I didn't understand.

I swirled up a very useful emotion. Complacency. It was a medium pink color, on the muted side. When I radiated it on humans it made them rather...go with the flow. Here's to hoping it worked on yetis. I made sure to keep all of it contained inside of me so they wouldn't get a tip off. Then, as if I wanted to ask a simple question I walked up to the two yetis and with each finger tapped them lightly on the shoulder, shooting a hefty dose into each simultaneously. Couldn't give one the chance to snap the other out of it. Their eyes turned a soft pink and they kind of lazily grinned at me. My yeti even gave me a pleasant nod, like we'd made eye contact passing on the street on a sunny day. With that I smiled sweetly back and sashayed right out the door.

I'd just proven that I could escape with a little work, but I didn't want them thinking I was up to any trouble. So I wasn't going blow this popsicle stand just yet. The guilty and the afraid run. I was going to prove that I was neither. I seemed to be back underground, in an empty room in an empty hallway, with similar doors. But I could smell something wonderful. Like warm chocolate and sugar. I followed my nose, walking openly through the hallways. I didn't care if I was seen; I made sure to keep my pace even and light. When someone inevitably caught me again, I'd appear as ill-intending as a marshmallow. I came upon a metal door with glass portholes. Pushing up onto my tip toes, I peered into what must have been the most massive kitchen I'd ever seen. It had two floors, with the upper being open and half the size of the slower. The lower floor looked to be a massive pantry. The upper floor had all the cooking equipment including what looked like a 32 burner stove! A lone yeti was inside puttering around with a large bag of chocolate chips. It looked like the bag was the size of me. He stumbled through what must have been some kind of storage door. He was restocking the chip dispenser on the lower floor. He couldn't see past the bag though and was wandering rather blindly around the pantry.

During a particularly heavy step, I noticed a small hole appear in the bag where the yeti couldn't see. Chip began to leak out. First one, then another until a small but steady drop of chips was hitting the floor. Now was as good a time as any to "get caught" and this poor fella was clearly on the struggle bus at the moment. I pushed the door open and morphed one of my bracelets into a bowl. I began to catch the falling chips in it as the yeti and walked into the pantry. Once he lay the bag down, he could finally see me and using my 'special sight' as it were, I could tell he was surprised and confused. Perhaps he though his help had come from a particularly light footed yeti. Did he know? About the intruder alert? Or had this guy been holed in the kitchen and missed all the fun? Before he could jump to any conclusions, I pushed the bowl full of fallen chocolate chips into his hands, paw-things. He looked down at it and emptied it into the chocolate chip dispenser. This guy seemed calm, so I went one step further.

I summoned my feelings of self control, the need to be in control of myself. My hands glowed a warm orange. The yeti's eyes went wide, as he backed away and grabbed the closest thing he could, which hilariously happened to be a very long ladle, which if I had to guess, was used to fish stuff out of the top of the dispensers. I reached my hands out, but not towards him. I reached toward the small scattering of chocolate chips that had made it to the floor before I'd begun to catch them. The ultimate expression of control: telekinesis. I gathered the chocolate chips into a floating ball and brought them towards us. Turning to the yeti, I uttered a single quiet word.

"Trash can?"

Taking one hand from the ladle, and bringing his guard down a little, he pointed to a hole in the wall, which led to a chute. I sent the chips down it and looked back at him. He'd put the ladle down. By now news of my escape must have reached somebody. The kitchen wasn't far from my cell. Any search would reach here soon.

I smelled something. The yeti did too. Forgetting me in favor of whatever was in the oven, he ran up the stairs and pulled a sheet tray from the ovens. I followed out of curiosity. He sighed in relief. It looked like nothing had burned. Chocolate chip with a salted caramel in the middle. He put the tray on the stove top and turned back to me. I clasped my hands gently in front of me. Now I was a problem that he could address.

With the barest of nods, he motioned that I follow him. We went down the stairs and held open the door I'd entered from. It would seem I'd be walking in front.

In part to steer me, and in probably in part to keep me from making a run for it, which wasn't part of the plan right now, he kept a paw-hand on my shoulder. It was warm and had a weight to it. It wasn't a backpack full of textbooks ow kind of weight. It was an almost nice weight. Even if it was a security escort, I hadn't been touched kindly in a long time.


	17. Chapter 17: Beginning

Song) Painting Grays by Emmit Fenn

Baker Yeti led me through all the twists and turns of the North Pole. I did my best to get a grasp of the layout. Who could say if I'd need to know that information one day? Certainly could've used it when I got here the first time. It seemed that the design of this underground section was very logical. All the hallways ran parallel to one another, and met with one lone perpendicular hallway on one end. An open elevator sat in the middle of this perpendicular hallway. A sign next to the elevator marked this floor as _Toy Design Archive 1600-1650 AD_. I guess that explained why the rooms were so empty. I'd imagine that Christmas gifts in the 17th century weren't as complicated as they are now. The cardboard boxes in my little room probably had some gift designs in it. Maybe a small rocking horse or something like that. The rooms from more recent decades were likely much more exciting. I could feel my eyes flare at the thought. Baker Yeti's hand squeezed a little tighter and I contained myself better.

In the elevator I saw other floors whir by. 'Twas a very fast elevator. Whatever order was so meticulously preserved in the lower floors was abandoned one we reached the surface. Two lefts, a right, straight, another left, and suddenly I was back in the room with the giant globe in it. Tooth Fairy was hovering over a massive fireplace, rapidly whispering to a revolving door of smaller fairies. Bunnymund was sitting with his back to the fire, working on an egg, with a paintbrush. I squinted at his paws, trying to see how he held the brush, but the backlighting was too dark to tell. Sandman was asleep on a coach, and Nicholas St. North was working at the big console I'd seen him use when he sent up the Northern Lights. Frost was missing. My eyes flicked around the massive room and found him in the rafters, his shock of white hair a give away in the dark wooded architecture. Yetis swarmed around carrying toy planes and robots and other things. Elves were underfoot doing goodness know what.

Baker Yeti announced our presence to the room and everyone's eyes flashed over to me. Emotions were still running high. I could feel the pressure already. I had to block it out. I had to stay in control.

"Good morning, Mimic." North's voice bellowed into what had quickly become a quiet room.

"Is it morning?" I responded lightly, "hard to tell around here. Haven't had the chance to look." This earned me a grin from Frost, albeit a barely noticeable one. More noticeable to me because he flashed a jovial yellow, just for a second. Bunnymund did not.

"A'right Mimic. Are we gonna 'ave a problem?"

"Are we?" I kept my tone level. Looking around at them all I was mildly accusatory. I may have used my powers, but they attacked first. North let out a breath and room seemed to collectively exhale along with him.

"No, I'd rather we do not, Mimic" he said.

"That makes two of us" I pasted on a grin, small but hopefully convincing. Didn't wanna overdo it. Baker Yeti let go of my shoulder and North gestured towards one of the couches near the fireplace. Sitting down would put me at a tactical disadvantage. But it would be a show of good faith. I sat down gingerly on the edge of the couch, the balls of my feet pressed just enough into the floor. The guardians all hovered around me, in Toothiana's case literally. I was in the presence of legends.

"Did you honestly break into the North Pole just to read?" North started off.

"Yes, but breaking in was an accident." I responded, emphasizing on the word 'accident.'

"An accident?" North sounded dumbstruck. As if someone could stumble past all of his security measures, _by accident_. Bunny seemed to get a bit of a laugh out of this, as did Jack. I looked towards Toothiana, eyes likely turning a baby pink as I silently asked for her forgiveness.

"I did go to your Palace intentionally though. I picked up the snowglobe out of curiosity and then dropped it when you found me. That's how I got in here."

"So why did you go to my Palace?"

"I was looking for information."

"What kind of information?"

"Any information."

This caught their attention. A few moments of silence followed. The silence was broken by Jack who tapped his staff on the ground lightly, sending a swirl of frost across the wood. He looked at me and he looked at me as if he was asking me for something, but what I didn't know.

"Did the moon tell you anything?"

"No…"

"Not even your name?" his eyes were boring into me. Still asking, but not asking the question. Asking something else.

"I chose my own name-" I said, but I recalled where I'd chosen it from, "-maybe with a little help."

In that moment, I understood the question he was really asking. I felt it, using my special sense, that he was asking if I was like him. I didn't know anything about him, but he wanted to have something in common with me. It was worth giving some thought to later. A new question took my thoughts.

"Why didn't you ask?" Toothiana looked at me, confused as to her should have been an obvious alternative to breaking and entering, well technically trespassing there were no locks.

"Would you have said yes to a stranger?" I asked back. Her brow, as well as those of the others furrowed as they considered this. If they had a report on me, which is never good, then I think we had all stumbled onto the same answer.

"Not to mention, how was I going to ask. It was hard enough to find a place, let alone one of you. Sandman would have been first choice."

"But?" Bunny caught the tail end of my thought.

"BUT, my chances of finding a migrating island without help were miniscule. And I didn't want to tip off someone who could potentially warn the rest of you, IF you decided to not like me then and there."

My candor struck them. But I thought it was in a good way. Sandy looked downright hurt, that I thought he'd choose to dislike someone right off of meeting them. I shrugged at him. "You guys have a reputation."

"Oh?" Jack leaned forward, "says who?" Clever boy. Now that was a piece of information I was going to keep to myself. I only knew that Pitch didn't like them. I was still unsure whether or not he even liked me. But I wasn't going to go making him hate me. I still needed him to at least tolerate me.

"Says me." I shot back. "After a bunch of years with no one to talk to."

He wasn't impressed. "A bunch? Try 300 years and then talk to me." he smiled, flashing his perfect pearly whites, dripping in charm. But he slipped. 300 years? I could work with that. He was older than he looked and now I knew just how old. I knew what there was to know about the others. He was still a blank page. But it was slowly getting filled in.

"I apologize for being where I shouldn't've been." I said, making sure to sound very sincere.

"Based on what you've told us, I suppose is excusable...this time." North said with his arms crossed over his barrel chest, displaying the NAUGHTY and NICE on each forearm. His arms were the thickness of my legs.

"Give me a way to call you and it won't happen again." I tossed in the question as if it were the simplest thing in the world. But North laughed.

"Perhaps, but you are still stranger to us Miss Mimic."

"Hardly. At this point, you know about as much as I do." I sweetly shared, getting off the couch. If any of them were leaning casually, they now straightened up. I put my hands in my pockets and avoided rolling my eyes. They were bad at masking their nerves. I was the one who was outnumbered in foreign territory. Bunny moved right up in front of me.

"So you don' wanna tell us about yer lil' explosion back there?"

My eyes darkened to a serious brown. I made sure I was radiating how serious I was. I didn't want there to be any mistake. I thought carefully. Should I risk exposing how much I didn't know? "I would if I could. All I've got is my best guess. About everything. Sorry if anyone got hurt. I didn't want that."

It didn't seem to satisfy him. But it placated him enough to get out of my space. I felt someone grab at my fingers. I looked down to see Sandman who flashed a series of fast symbols over his head. I processed.

"Hmm, um, I don't really _do_ anything, at least not yet? Not like Santa and Christmas or anything."

"HA! Told you more famous." North said to Bunny. Bunny groaned, "it was a coin toss, mate!"

I looked up and met Jack's eyes. Once again with that feeling of sharing, of commonality. Not sure how

or why though. He has a job. Even Pitch has a job. He says I've got one too. If only I could figure out what.

Throughout the course of conversation, I'd managed to maneuver myself towards a window. One good jump with a happiness boost and I'd be out. Jack was watching me. I wouldn't put it passed him to have caused this blizzard outside. He could probably make it bad enough that I wouldn't make it a half mile and end up in some semi-frozen sea. He knew my train of thought. I could tell. I didn't think I was radiating emotion anymore. I'd have to tighten down. I broke eye contact.

"Can I go?" I asked. Might as well cut to the chase.

"Do you know what it is that we do, Mimic?" Toothiana asked.

"Protect children."

"Right. Don't give us a reason…" she trailed off, giving me a pointed look. I smiled.

"I've got no intentions of trouble."

She winked at me. "Good."

North brought out a snow globe from a pocket of his circus tent of a coat. He put it into my hands. I looked at all the assembled Guardians. As first impressions go, it was far from ideal. I'd just met my childhood heroes. I felt wonderstruck. Over the moon. But all of that was dampened down by the weight of confusion. How could I enjoy this, when I didn't know what any of it was?


	18. Chapter 18: Beginning

Song) Love Death Birth by Carter Burwell

It would be months after that until anything worth talking about happened. In those months, I processed the information I'd gathered from that little adventure. It wasn't much. I should've chosen more books, because all I knew was a ton of stuff about the Guardians. But since they seemed to be the top of the food chain, I knew a ton about the top dogs. What kept bothering me was how they all had this great mandate or whatever. They knew exactly what they were supposed to be doing. I, on the other hand, did not. It reminded me of the listlessness I had when I'd first been reborn. It sucked.

I saw Pitch a few times during those months. We'd spar, I'd ask a few questions in exchange, but nothing heavy. He didn't question my sudden disinterest in the topics I'd previously been biting to know about. Of course if he did question it, he didn't show it. I got bits and pieces about the other various spirits of the world. Jack wasn't the only winter spirit. Sounds like the other one is a piece of work. Most of them sounded like pretty reasonable characters. Just all spread out. I was getting used to being alone; settling into it. It was honestly pretty comfortable at this point.

I didn't tell Pitch about my run in with the Guardians. When he asked about an odd period of time where he couldn't find me, I just bragged about maybe finding a place he hadn't looked yet.

"Something is on your mind." he had asked. "You are distracted."

"Didn't stop me from kicking your tail."

"After 4 hours. And I beat you three times before that. You're getting slow darling. Inefficient."

"Maybe I was holding back. And since when do you care what's going on in my head?"

"If anyone was holding back, dear, it was me. And you are getting boring is all."

"That all? I need something to do. A purpose, Mr. Black."

"We are all given one. It'll come to you." he huffed, like I was the stupidest child in the world.

"Thanks. That's so helpful."

I wandered the earth. Watching the dreamsand. Watching the kids. But being watchful of the tooth fairies. I almost actively avoided them. I avoided Pitch's shadows too. Once I'd figure out the difference between regular shadows and watchers, I steered clear of them too. For someone no one could see, I felt very watched. I was just being, but it felt like everyone was waiting for something to just change about me. To be fair, I was waiting too. Maybe something would change and I would just fit into all of this. In the real world I knew it didn't work like that. But this wasn't the real world. Or it was, but just on another level. Everyone here had their place, practically through divine intervention.

I'd started talking to the moon, ever since Jack had asked me about whether or not it had told me anything, well it wasn't so much talking as thinking in its general direction. I could remember the night I left clear as day. I don't think I'd ever forget it. The moon had been out that night. The moon never said anything back, not in words like my name had been at least. But I did find that being out with the moon was pleasant, and calming so I did seek out its company more than I had.

It was one such night when I'd decided to spend the night on the top of the tallest of Giza's pyramids when I sensed something on the wind far to the Northeast. It was faint but I took off because it was ominous to say the least. The further I flew, the stronger it got until over one stretch of sand it hit me hard enough to knock me out of the sky. Like the air reeked of ash and sweat. It was all too familiar. Fear. But this was massive. Pitch with what he was feeding off of could not produce something this big, but no doubt he'd be here soon. As I spit sand out of my mouth, I ran into the cloud of fear looking past its smoke to see a village. Empty streets spanned around with crumbling buildings. I saw the remains of what must have been a beautiful mosaic with colorful bits of stone littering the ground. The smoke of fear was joined by the stench of actual smoke and the dust I saw in my eyes was more than just fear. There was real ash. This place had just been bombed. Using some freedom, I pulled a gust of air to move the dust out of my eyes. I followed the scent of fear to where it was worst and to my horror found a group of children huddling with a lone grownup under the cover of some tarp. I frantically looked around. There had to be something, someone who could do something. I waved and called out but of course not a head turned. They just stayed there, afraid.

I heard boots and saw headlights from what must be a convoy. I was going to have just as much luck getting their attention. My heart beat hard in my chest. I could not sit by! I was not a Guardian, I didn't have gifts and toys or anything to give but my heart which was beating so darn hard! The shattered mosaic with all its colors caught my eye. Purple, blue, gold. My heart could do some darn big things on its own. I was a spirit and if there was one thing I had learned recently, is that spirits are powerful and I was too. My eyes began to glow bright enough that they cast shadows on the crumbling walls.

It was time to put my improved strength to use. I needed a little powers help by mooching some emotional strength from one of the people on the convoy but I put my shoulder into it and pushed an electric pole down in front of the oncoming convoy. They stopped and grateful for my invisibility, I checked the sides and front of the trucks for any indicators. At the sight of the red cross on the canvas, I heart leapt with enough joy I could have flown to the other side of the globe and back. They started pulling out saws to remove the pole, but I needed them to look around! One of them was a young woman, sitting shotgun in one of the trucks. She was feeling motivated, I suppose she had to be doing this kind of work. Following my instincts I stretched out a hand and grabbed onto her emotions. Pulling them like taffy I stretched out with my other hand and latched onto the fear of the children. I could feel both of them pulsing through me, soft but present. I tied them together.

The woman in the truck sat up and opened the door. Yes! C'mon follow it.

"Fatima! What are you doing?" a voice from inside the truck called.

"It's just, I've got a feeling. We won't be moving for a bit, relax."

She was getting closer to them. C'mon just look closer. The kids were still petrified into silence. I ran over to them. I pulled together all my courage and showered it over the children in a cascade of gold. One of the older ones peeked out and saw Fatima. He called out in a language I didn't know yet. Maybe Arabic or Farsi. He stood up and waved his arms yelling. Fatima saw him and immediately called out to the trucks. In minutes all the children were out on the street being held by members of the convoy being checked for bruises and cuts. I used their relief and some sadness of my own and I spun a mist up into the air. The mist settled the dust and the night became much clearer...better. I pushed the fear back until it vanished into the ground. I felt better. The moon looked at me and I looked at it. I think we had come to the faintest grasp of an understanding.

It was the beginning and it was small, but it was something. It would only get larger from there. I didn't know how powerful I really was until these days. I was starting to understand what Pitch had meant when he had called me a force of nature. Even if I wasn't a part of the spirit world, I felt like I was woven into the fabric of the real world. I was under the sky and on top of the world. I was alone but more than I had ever been in my entire life. I had achieved what had gotten me off my butt in those first few months. I was something. Even if no one else could see me.

My emotions, which had always been so much that I thought I couldn't contain them, were now a deep well from which I drew my powers. I had so much energy to siphon that I could cast a mood over an entire city, with enough altitude, an entire county, the entirety of the Vatican, or most of Rhode Island.

Moving just ahead of the sunrise, I cast the first good feelings of optimism in the morning. I chased down spots of sadness and did my best to make them lighter to bear. An emotion that was too much for a mourning toddler who lost their mom to a car crash was a weight I could bear for them. I could lift off some of their sadness and turn it into mist on the grass around the grave. When joy bordered on mania, I took the extra and transformed it into extra sunshine, or an extra second of levity on the swing set. At night I kept a healthy sense of wariness in the air and made sure that someone looked over their shoulder if they needed to. I sent comfort and contentment into warm happy homes, and bravery and strength into those that weren't so happy. On rare occasions I'd manufacture a dose of emotion for a place from scratch. More often than not I just tweaked and pulled here and there and casted light general moods en masse.

The emotions of the world's people fed me and kept me going because as long as I was entrenched in their feelings and using my own strictly for work, anything else faded away.

But when I wasn't working I still spent those hours alone. I'd hike a lonely mountain, a deserted tundra, uninhabited coasts and cliffs, empty forests. It was on purpose, mind you. Living in everyone else's emotions gave me life, but it was a constant harsh reminder that while they could feel my emotions, that they couldn't sense me. When I wasn't doing it, it was easier to be alone and pretend that in this beautiful wide world I was truly alone and didn't need their companionship.


	19. Chapter 19: Beginning

Songs) 1. Chase the Light by TSFH 2. Possibility by Lykke Li

Not even a few weeks after that, Pitch cornered me on a cloudy day as I was skimming over the mountains of Argentina. It was a holiday season for them and I was excited to cast some excitement down the slopes into the valleys. Excitement and its negative counterpart, worry, are both vibrational. They shake. Mountains are the best places to cast it because it echoes far and wide. It's kind of like the earth is singing a marigold orange song. But as he approached the notes fell flatter. I corrected them and tried my best to cordon off some of his wandering fear which always emanated around him.

"I don't appreciate your attempts to contain me Mimic, darling. It's making me claustrophobic."

I cocked my eye head and raised an eyebrow, "You live underground. I don't appreciate you messing up my work even if it's just how things are around you. Besides it doesn't take much energy to do."

He feigned looking hurt, "are you saying I don't warrant your full energy?"

"Why are you here, Mr. Black?"

"Do I need a reason to visit a young spirit who I've taken under my wing?" his voice dripped sugar.

"Yes." I stated the obvious, "and that is a bit of an exaggeration."

"Hardly, my dear. I have taught you a great many things haven't I?"

"Some things." was all that I would admit to. I'd taught myself a fair bit and I wasn't gonna let him take credit for that. There were more than enough times he'd been less than forthcoming, "Now why are you here?"

"Between friends, I came to see if you would be open to doing me a favor."

Two things in that sentence made me very suspicious. The word "friend" and the word "favor." Friendship was not how I would describe our dynamic. He was the only person even close to being anything to me, but friends? No. I was pretty sure that Pitch only liked me as far as he could throw me and now he wanted to throw me. A very small part of me wondered if I was being overly suspicious. If he wanted to be friends, and since I was constantly aware of how alone I was, playing ball may not be so bad. I hadn't considered wanting a friend in the last decade. I had faced rebirth as if being alone was a understood eventuality. I'd resigned myself to it.

"What kind of favor?" I asked, careful not to sound like I was committed one way or the other.

"As you know all I can project and feed on is fear. You my dear can cast anything _and_ feed on anything. Because of that you can...reach a larger audience per se."

"What larger audience do you want me to reach? And why?"

"I'll tell you soon. As for the why, it has to do with the balance of the world."

The balance of the world. The balance…

Pitch and I had talked about balance before. Usually about how every spirit had a role to play in it. If spirits did not fulfill their duties, not only was it painful for them, but the world as a whole suffered. Travelling all over the world as often as I did one could see all the energies balancing each other. The happiness generally cancelled out the sad, the sun matched the cloudy days.

"I'm glad you're willing to consider it." Pitch kept speaking, "You'll see me again soon. When I have more information."

And like that he vanished into a shadow on the mountainside. Soon could be a lot of things for someone as old as Pitch. I filed our little conversation away. It seemed important, but I also didn't think it would be coming to get me in the next few weeks.

* * *

I was wrong. Pitch didn't return to elaborate on his favor, but I began to notice things. The balance was off. It started as small things. Patches of worry, colored like an aging pumpkin would pop up and go away. A few were normal. Everyone's got worries. But these were whole communities, and in places where it wasn't normal. And it persisted. Worry isn't supposed to be long lasting. It's supposed to come and go as you learn to tackle increasingly difficult challenges in life. Normally it's a healthy motivator. It was starting to make me feel dizzy and off-kilter.

I started investigating the patches and using my powers to try and mitigate them. It was less me keeping emotional balance, but using people's emotions as well as my own to try and keep balance everywhere! In the Congo it wasn't raining during the rainy season, so I took calm from a hospital in a nearby city to move water from a lake several miles away to make a brief shower. There were increased earthquakes and volcanic activity all round the Pacific Ring of Fire. I brought the intensity down on the fire and quakes but I had get myself halfway across the world filled to the brim with anger and worry to spread it out thinly enough to not give any one person too much. But things were only getting worse. And as things got worse, the worse I felt. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't fly because summoning happiness was too difficult. I resorted to using my bracelets to hook myself on the top of a commercial plane and cast as they flew over various regions. After three months of this it was getting to be exhausting. After casts it would be hard to breathe, and I'd have to sleep but any sleep was restless and hard. It was wearing me down bit by bit and it was getting hard to separate myself from the emotional energy waves I was moving around.

I was in Switzerland, trying to deal with a spot of panic that had popped up. I scoured news stands, spied on TVs and listened all around town trying to identify the source. I followed the trail of the panic all over but it was just shaking in the ground and all over. There was no spot that was the most panicked. It was just everywhere. Out of options I got myself up the mountainside hoping a high ground view would offer better sight of the town. When even that gave no new perspective I decided to just try and siphon it off as it was and hope for the best. Waist deep in and with no other options I got to work.

"You."

I was still in deep with the emotional energy, so very carefully I turned to meet the eyes of one Jack Frost. His tall, lanky frame made even taller by the fact that he didn't sink into the soft powder which coated the peaks of every mountain for a hundred miles in every direction. Upon seeing my eyes if not my entire body, which must have been positively radioactive orange from moving all the panic, he raised his staff ever so slightly. Not a real threat. But not a gesture of goodwill either.

"Don't come any closer." I whispered out, breathing deep to keep control. I had gathered all the panic, but I hadn't stored it and pressed it down deep inside me yet. I hadn't yet begun to spin my own emotions to cast over the village. I could feel the panic pushing back against my skin, and my mind. It hummed, and wasn't easily contained. "I'm-" but the energy hit me like a wave of nausea and I couldn't finish the sentence.

"Why? Is something wrong?" he lowered his staff and began to move towards me face confused and maybe a little bit scared. He was scared of me, of what I might do. After last time, could I blame him?

I shook my head just enough for him to see and I put my hands out to tell him to stop coming closer. If he got panicked and got too close before I contained the rest, I just might crack. I could feel myself reaching the edge of control, but didn't know what would happen if I lost control. I didn't want to find out. He recoiled back and raised his staff again.

"No, I'm not going to hurt you." I was still trying to compress the panic down away from the surface of my mind. A quarter of it down, half of it, three quarters…

"Then...tell me what you're doing." Jack said, "Explain it to me."

"I will when I'm finished!" I said exasperated, hand clutching my chest as I pushed the last of the panic down. But to my shock, Jack reached out to put a hand on my shoulder. The only times I'd ever been touched since rebirth were sparring sessions with Pitch, who emanated pure fear, and the Baker Yeti in the North Pole who had been feeling only slight calm. To see someone's emotions, to stand hear them and sense them is one thing, but to be touched is totally different. Jack touched me and Jack's confusion was suddenly hardlined into my brain where it struck the suppressed panic before I could shut the door on it.

It all burst forth and broke free of my control. Instead of being in my body under my control the panic devoured my own emotion, devoured me. I could feel it thrumming into my limbs. Looking down at my hands and arms I saw veins of radioactive orange spreading down towards my finger tip. Quick as I could I grabbed my mirror and saw that similar veins were bleeding out from my eyes and mouth. I didn't know what was about to happen but my grip on consciousness was loosening as the panic to possess me. It's the only way I can describe it. It was possessing me.

In the few seconds before it all broke loose, I grasped Jack's hand on my shoulder and breathed out, "Run."

He took to the air, the wind whipping my hood down and hair back. This time I didn't completely black out. The world went fuzzy and I couldn't control my body, but my arm and limbs flung outward and the panic exploded like a concussive charge out into the snow. I had the barest hope that the snow had taken the shock but a second crack from below made my heart drop and in the sky above I felt Jack's alarm. The first time I'd broken a few windows. This time I'd caused an avalanche.

The snow around me began to pull downwards. I felt drained, I didn't have enough juice to fly. My body felt like it had gone through a tumble cycle on a washing machine but in that moment I knew that this was just not acceptable. My body was going to have to tough it out a bit longer while I fixed the mess I created. I roped myself to a tree with one of my bracelets and shut my eyes. I dug and dug and scraped every last bit of any emotion that the panic hadn't managed to override. After confirming with my mirror that I had the tiniest of rainbows in my eyes I released the tree and sprinted towards a bluff, taking a flying leap over the side.

Jack was already ahead of me. I could see his staff glowing as he directed most of the snow down paths that lead away from the ski slopes and the village below. I still hadn't been able to so much as move an ice cube or make an ice cube since my days on the beach, so I'd have to use what I had. I chipped away at my freedom to get myself onto a tall tree near the base of the mountain. On the north side of the mountain, a river cut through the valley. I used my anger to melt as much of the snow as I could before it diverted to the West and South. When my anger ran out I switched to confusion and my need to control, then focus, then motivation, then strength. I churched through every shred and with the last of my energy I just pushed a tree over to block the last running section of snow. It didn't make it within 5 miles of the village. Jack had done a majority of it I'm sure, but I won't have it though that I didn't do my best to help. It didn't stop the guilt from setting in. The kind that makes you wanna melt through the floor. Or in my case being phasing into the ground. Looking down I huffed and pulled myself back onto the ground, regaining my composure. I didn't turn around when he landed behind me. I had already pulled up my hood. I wanted to run but I couldn't even if I wanted to. I was exhausted. And I thought _any pain or punishment he decides to dish out I'm just gonna have to deal with it. _But that thought was quickly enough replaced by _I was trying to do something good. And he and his assumptions messed it up! Whatever this is, I will NOT take it lying down. I can admit when I screw up, but I'm better than groveling._

I turned to face him, face set like stone.

"What now?" I asked.

"I'm gonna be honest, I'm really not sure." Jack said staff set casually against his shoulder. At least he wasn't pointing it at me.

"I'm sorry for causing trouble...again." I sighed, "I was trying to help."

"Help with what?" he sat down. I didn't.

"There was a panic in the village, I was trying to get rid of it when you arrived."

"Like people panicking?" he cocked his head to the side, not getting it.

"Not exactly," I said slowly, trying to think about how to put into words, "it's more like panic as an independent thing was all over the town."

"Like a spirit?"

"No simpler than that. Just a feeling like…"

"Like the panic I felt when I touched you?"

"That literally was the panic you felt when you touched me." At this point tiredness got the better of me and I sat down as well. I could see the wheels turning in his head.

"You absorbed the panic of an entire town?"

"You make snow that covers full regions."

"But that's energy going out, not energy going it, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, well the panic would have to go somewhere. I was gonna dissipate it onto some ocean somewhere once I got it contained enough to travel. I was in the middle of...packaging it...so to speak and then you got all jumpy and touched me. It was the straw that broke the camel's back."

"So you're an emotion spirit, then?"

"So far as I can tell."

"You really don't know?"

I was getting really tired of feeling stupid, "So far as I can tell," I repeated, "I'm a lot of things." In my mind I added _and yet nothing._

"I can believe that, seeing what you did back there."

"Hmm. So, are you gonna tell on me?" I looked at him right in the eyes. Not to manipulate the feelings there, but just to connect on some level.

"I'll probably have to. The Guardians have been investigating some...stuff.""

"Stuff? C'mon," I said. Subtle was clearly not Jack's strong suit.

"Listen, things have been weird lately. We're just trying to figure it out."

"I've noticed and I've been trying to figure it out too. I've been doing something about it!" I wasn't sure how wise it was to admit to that. But a bold move but just have been what I needed.

"You've been seen around a lot of the trouble spots."

"Seen?" I practically laughed, "Seen by who?"

"Tooth fairies, Bunny caught your scent once or twice."

I stopped laughing, "Oh. Just seen by them."

"Hey, I know that feeling. It's not fun."

My patience was beginning to wear thin and after the past year I wasn't completely above letting it show this one time. "Oh really? I know how everyone around me feels. All the time. And right now it doesn't feel like that."

"Well believe me I do."

"You've got other people to believe in you," I said standing up and dusting off, "I'm going to take some more convincing. Thanks for helping me clean up the avalanche I caused. I'm sorry for causing it."

"I'm sorry for interfering in your work and maybe helping you cause it. What is your work exactly, if you don't mind my asking?"

I nodded in response to his apology, "I don't have work. I don't have anything. Not like you at least. I'm just a spirit trying to do something-something good at the very least."

With that the wind came and picked him up as he unfolded his legs and swept off into the sky. I exhaled a sigh of exhaustion. There was a mountain meadow calling my name somewhere. I needed to sleep. I was so tired I must not have seen the watcher shadow hiding under a rock nearby.


End file.
